Knight in Shining Armour
by Elle-ish
Summary: If I could talk to my 18 year old self, here is what I would say. Get out of denial. There is no such thing as a knight in shining armour, especially for someone like you. Warning: use of language, and dark themes in later chapters. Slash
1. Prologue

Hiya! This is my first Fan Fiction...Ever. Phew! I'm alittle nervous (okay very nervous). So wish me luck!

Warning: This fic is rated M for possible rape (not sure yet) in the future, abuse, and swearing (an overly large amount of swearing, be warned).

Disclaimer: Only in my dreams do I own Drake and Josh. So on, I do not own Drake and Josh

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><p><em><strong>Prologue<strong>_

Well, I guess this is it. After all these years, my voice is being strangled from my throat, of course with the help from my brother, to tell my story. I, god, I hoped, no, I didn't _think_ it would be this hard. But it is. I can't escape it. I can't escape him.

After all these years of silence, I'm finding it hard speak. Communicating in any way whatsoever is too difficult, even. But I have to. To move on, to move forward. I have to.

_Speak_

So here it is. My story.

It started when I was 17 just turning 18. 6 years ago. I was young, innocent (well, not so much, but I'd like to imagine so...), and naive to the max. I had my whole life ahead of me. A start to what looked like a great, promising career at Spin City Records. A life that would start in a near 6 months after I would graduate. Alongside my brother, I remember we looked out into the packed audience, of...how many? Oh god, it must have been at least a two-thousand. Apparently some kids in my school had, like, mega huge families.

I remember that I looked into the audience and found my parents smiling and I-am-definitely-**not**-going-to-cry faces. I remember seeing Megan's face, my 12 going on 30 year old sister, looking incredibly bored. We caught each other's glances for a quick second and she mouthed the word '_boob'_ to me. I held in a giggle. Original much?

I remember Megan tried to look miserable, but her eyes, for once, gave her away. She was proud that her brothers, particularly me, were graduating. I turned my head slightly to the left.

Another face, and some more words being mouthed to me. '_I hate you.' _This time I gave in and felt a small laugh escape my throat. I then mouthed back '_I know'_ quickly, just before my name was called. I was receiving my High School Diploma, I was starting my life, I was going to Spin City Records to begin my career, I- already said all that, didn't I?

Fuck, I was supposed to start 6 months before graduation, goddamit.

Okay, Christmas Break. No... no, no, no. Just after Christmas Break. A week to be exact. Me and Josh had just finished celebrating what would become the "Best Christmas Ever". We were happy. We weren't going to Jail. And Heck, we weren't dead.

Death wasn't really something we were worried about at the time, but avoiding it was something to be considered lucky on our lists.

We were returning back to school. Back to Studying, Tests, Essays and a lot of hard work- for Josh.

For me, it was returning to a 6 and a half hour jail cell. The extra half hour wasn't normal for most students, but I had always been a little different. I often got held back for some, well, Teacher and Drake _ Bonding Time_. Yaa, that sounds right. _Bonding Time_. D-Definitely not _Teacher-holding-Drake-Hostage_ Time.

Okay, fine! Some would call it detention, but like I said, I had always been a little different.

Anyways, school was 6 hours of attempting to avoid teachers looks, questions and judgmental accusations. Having to come up with quick, witty comebacks when I hadn't done my first job well enough was exhausting, but there was some good that came with Jail-time.

Socializing.

Hanging out with the Band and some beautiful ladies while, also, trying to spend my last moments with Josh before his leaving to University. Of course, with _Creature _around, that last job was becoming difficult. And not only during Jail Time hours. Oh no! That job was becoming difficult 24/7.

Mindy was constantly around Josh. At the theatre. At School. On the way to School. On the way _from _ School. At our house. Her arms around his like a friggin' female pray mantas, ready to eat her Male lover at any second. I'm sure you get the point. I never had time to get in between the two lovers to talk to Josh.

I hadn't talked to Josh at all during that first week back at school because Mindy was always there. And when Mindy was there, it was MindyandJosh vs. Drake. A.k.a, lets irritate Drake by calling him big words that he doesn't understand until he leaves us alone so we can get some more alone time. Our last moments together before we'll be ripped from each other's arms, for the sake of our future. Our children's future. For the world.

Ya, a real tragedy was about to strike Mindy and Josh's relationship. Mindy was going to Harvard. Josh was going to Yale. Do you see the _'oh my life is over!_' tragedy? I didn't. But of course my thoughts didn't matter. I was apparently too stupid and a little bit too, umm, whore-ish to understand true love and its desperation to hold onto its *cough* over the top *cough* partner. These were Josh's words not mine. Actually, sorry, I lied. The cough was all me.

They decided that they were going to stay together during their university years, even though they wouldn't be next to each other every dynast fucking day! Boo fucking Hoo was all I could say.

But I couldn't. That would hurt Josh. I didn't want Josh to be mad at me before he left for Yale. So if he felt that his girlfriend-for-the-rest-of-his life was more important than his step-brother, his best friend, so be it.

Even if it hurt me. Josh would at least be happy right? Right?

That was really the beginning of it all. I was in desperate need of attention. I needed to feel wanted. Loved.

I was lonely and in denial about being lonely. The worst combination known to mankind since the invention of the alphabet and 'School' by _Charlemagne_. What a friggin' egotistical maniac. Screwing up life for everyone else. And what kind of name is _Charlemagne_?

_Charlemagne helped mankind, Drake._ I can still hear his voice. Trying to reach me, trying to _teach_ me something_. _I wish I listened to you then, Josh_._

_He made this world a better place. During his time, nobody ever had a break. They constantly worked and were frightened by death due to the spreading diseases. He felt that everyone was equal, that they should all be given a chance to enjoy life. Everyone had equal right to know they could, one day, escape their awful lives by reading a book about a Princess being rescued by her Knight in shining armour._

Heh. That was funny, Josh. What you said then. Because I know now. There's no such thing as a knight in shining armour. Well, maybe for some chicks in the world there is, but not for me. I'm the man. I'm supposed to be the knight in shining armour. I'm not supposed to receive one.

I met him one night. He made me feel safe and secure. He took away my loneliness that I had been feeling. Even if for a minute. Unfortunately, it was that minute that made me believe, and I truly believed that I had, in fact, met my knight in shining armour.

_Drake_

Even during his alcoholic slumber. The time when he can't touch me or talk to me. The time I'm out of his reach. Even during my 'safe' time, I can still hear his voice beside my ear. His warm breath against my skin. It makes me want to puke.

...

God fucking damnit! I wish I knew then what I know now.

If I could talk to my 18 year old self, here is what I would say.

Get out of fucking denial. Stop being Naive. Stop believing in fictional little fucking Fairy Tales.

There is no such thing as a knight in shining armour. Especially for someone like you.

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><p>And so it begins... I've been reading alot of Drake and Josh fan fiction, and one night I watched a movie called "Angel's Egg" ( an anime from the 80's, it is amazing), and thus this idea was born! I'm worried that my Drake is a alittle OOC, and that the darker themes in later chapters will be a little overwhelming... but... ehhh... tell me what you think?<p>

Review please! I love conductiive criticsm, as well as any type of review. Posirive or Negative :p


	2. Chapter 1

I...have...reviews... I, ME, woww. I didn't think that'd ever happen, awesomeee!

Well, here is Chapter 1 one of the actual story. For those who are confused, The Prolgoue takes place 6 years after Chapter 1 (THIS CHAPTER,OMG!). Chapter one is during senior year, Right after the Merry Christmas Drake and Josh movie. The actual story is about what leads up to the events in the Prologue. Why Drake is feeling the way he was, blah blah blah. Does that help? I hope so. I'm alittle nervous all the characters are OOC, especially Audrey and Josh.

Warning: Swear Words. That's about it in this Chapter, I believe.

Disclaimer: I do not own Drake and Josh.

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><p><em>6 years earlier<em>

**Beep... Beep... Beep**

I force my eyes lids open. What? What is that...noise? Its dark, and everything is blurry. Must be my imagination. I'm just going to go back to sleep.

**Beep... Beeep... Beeeep**

Okay, so it's not just my imagination. Something is beeping. But, can I just go back to sleep? I am not fully awake yet, nor do I really want to be. Today is Thursday. My second last day before the weekend, the time when I can finally sleep in! Seriously, who decided to have school so early in the morning anyway?

Oh right, _ Charlemagne._ What an egotistical maniac... What does egotistical mean? Whatever, it sounds cool. Egotistical maniac. Egotistical maniac. Egotistical maniac. Egotistical Maniac.

**Beeeeep... Beeeeeeep...Beeeeeeeeeeeeep**

Okay, seriously? What the fuck is that noise disturbing my awesome beauty sleep? I want to sleep! Can it not sense that? Does this annoying noise not understand that I do **not** want to wake up? That I do **not** want to go to school?

School. The place where I've realized the finalizing truth.

I have no real friends, the teachers all hate my guts, and the lovers don't ever want to be interrupted. Ever.

**Beeeeeeeeeeeeeeeeeep**

"Drake! Shut off your alarm clock, please." An anguished voice yells in the distance.

"Drake, we're going to be late. _Again_. Look, dude, Mindy's going to call for a ride any minute!" The voice is getting anxious, even in its anguished state. AHahaa, anguished. The word sounds... squishy.

_'I shall call him_ Squishy, and he shall be mine, and he shall be _my Squishy_.' Oh Dory, you funny little blue fish. I need to watch that movie again. '...He touched the butt' Haha! Yup, I'm so watching it tonight. It's not like I'm doing anything else. Josh is at Mindy's house, so at least I'm not going to be kicked out of my room again. Not to mention, I'm grounded for my extracurricular activities during Christmas Vacation.

Josh isn't grounded though, want to know why? Because he's Josh, and my parents felt that it was my fault for getting him into the entire mess in the first place. They didn't even talk to me about it. They just heard Josh's side, and decided that he's loyal, trustworthy, and wouldn't dare lie to them, so that's why I'm grounded.

Josh cracked when they asked how our days leading up to Christmas were, before they had arrived back to see our house covered in cheese snow. It was a simple question, though Josh broke out in a sweat and started panicking.

"_Wh-wha, why do you ask." Josh began saying "We didn't do anything! I wasn't sent to Jail, and we didn't get a very large amount of tickets for random things that we need to pay for! And there defiantly wasn't anything about little orphan children having that best Christmas ever! Nyyhgn..nyygghnnn...nygnyyghnn... ohh noooohhh" _

Ya, Josh blew it when he started twitching. Our parents were on him in seconds, and I was grounded immediately.

"Drakeeeee!"

The voice is becoming even more anxious.

Anxious. And that voice. Heat, sweat, _stroke, stroke, stroke._ Oh my go-Is _that _what I had a dream about last night? Well, that would explain some things down near the rear end that I am trying desperately to ignore.

"Drake, please-"

**BEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEPP**

Subconsciously, I obey the command that had been rudely interrupted by the annoying noise. I lift my right arm in the air and slam down onto something hard.

**Bppepp**ppp...

Well, I guess that did the trick. Can I go back to sleep now? Yes? Okay.

"Drake, get up or else I'm leaving to go pick up Mindy without you."

Ouch, Josh that really stung. Like you didn't do that yesterday when I was just putting my books that I wouldn't use into my bag.

I don't think you even heard my voice call out to you when you rushed past my side, grabbing the car keys. Josh hurriedly flew out the door, started the car, and left. I had even woke up early. Showered, got dressed, and was ready to go before Mindy even called. I did that in hopes that I wouldn't be left behind _again_ like I had been the day before that. Tuesday.

I am starting to think that Josh really didn't care.

Could I turn over and just die? Would you even notice? Nope, if Mindy was by your side you probably wouldn't.

Wow, I'm over dramatic.

That's when I hear it. Josh's phone. There is a clicking sound and Josh begins to speak.

"Oh hey Sweetie, Yupp! Haha, you're so clever. Okay, I'm coming to pick you up. See you in a few, okay, Sugernut? Aha, N-no, you hang up first... noooooooo, you hang up first... no, you hang up first! No you hang-"

A door slams in the distance. Finally, I'm alone with my thoughts. That actually is probably not what I want but its better then listening to... that. Blehhhk. I shudder just thinking about it.

"Drake Parker! You get your skinny little butt down here this instance! You're late for School!" my Mom screams from downstairs.

I stand corrected. I would take Josh and Mindy's sickening phone call any day to avoid hearing my mother screaming at me. Especially if that screaming involves ' skinny little butt' and 'school' being in the same sentence.

I tiredly lift my body from the warmth of the mattress. I instantly regret it, but I refuse to lay back down. I will not listen to my mother yell that same sentence to me. Again... I think I can feel my ears bleeding just thinking about it. Truthfully I wouldn't be surprised if my ears did bleed. With every noise that has forcefully thrown me out of my beauty sleep this morning.

Actually...could I stay home and not go to school sleep if my ears really were bleeding?

Ya, I guess not.

Instead, I decide to take the next best route. With all the energy I can muster, I swing my hips rapidly to the right. I feel a stinging feeling in my stomach as I flop onto the hard wooden loft beside my bed. As soon as I hit the floor, my body tumbles off the ledge.

A loud _THUD_ scrapes against the silence of my room with its echo.

...owwwwww.

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><p>I arrived to School a little late this morning, as anyone with a brain could probably figure out. B-but it wasn't so bad! I was only half an hour late... okay, maybe 45 minutes... fine, it was an hour! But the last half hour within that hour I was making out with Kyra Griffiths, which is 10x more important than learning about some book about darkness and a heart with Mrs. Hayfer.<p>

Mrs. Hayfer... ehhhk.

Unfortunately, she went to go photo copy some papers for the class to work on during the last 15 minutes of class. I guess she kinda saw me. Why do I kinda think she saw me? Well, she yelled at me, told me she hated me and gave me detention. But I didn't have to go back to her class. So I got an extra 15 minutes with Kyra. Score!

Which leads me to where I am right now. Lunch. In the cafeteria. Yes, IN the cafeteria. Not outside, under the bleachers with some random chick like usual. I guess the weather has decided to hate me too, because it's a friggin' downpour outside. So everyone is locked indoors. Joy.

I turn to look at the faces of my friends. Gary, a chubby boy who constantly claims that he's out of clean clothes, so he has to keep wearing his sister's blouses. Truthfully, I think he's just a closeted cross dresser. He's talking a mile a minute about some story that has to do with how his New Year's went.

"So, the Giant Ball in time square is about to drop in, like, any second, and she's waiting for me to come out to give her a New Year's Kiss on-her-bed. But I'm locked in the bathroom. The monkey is still latched to my groin, my foot is lodged in the toilet, and the wax will not wash off my fingers, so-"

I tune out of the conversation and notice Trevor's face as he listens to Gary's story. His jaw is dropped so far down it looks like it could reach the floor. His eyes are open wide in shock. Suddenly he snaps out of his shell shocked state with a shake of his head. He turns to me and, interrupting Gary's story, starts talking rather loudly.

"So dude, when are you like, not grounded anymore? We've kinda got to rehearse with the band soon."

I try to think of the best possible way to answer that question. It's not like my parents wouldn't allow me to rehearse while I'm grounded, they have before, but I don't know. At the moment I just don't want to be stuck in a room for 6 hours with these idiots.

"I dunno man, whenever they feel like un-grounding me?" I say with my hand feebly on my head.

"Dude, that's sooo, like, unfair. What did you even do?"

I haven't told any of the guys yet about my little Christmas Adventure. Like they had allowed me the freedom to say more than 10 words to them each lunch break, everyone was just so caught up in their personal lives, I hadn't been able to speak at all. I probably shouldn't get so angry over that, but I am.

"Fuck, dude, does it really matter? I'm grounded either way." I say to Trevor, who has already tuned me out and started listening to Tanner's story again. I sigh and begin to look around the crowed cafeteria.

Does nobody notice? I feel like I'm falling. Deeper and deeper and nobody will be able to help me up when I reach the ground.

I don't like this. Nobody noticing, nobody caring that my world is slowly tipping off its balance.

Okay, seriously? Does nobody notice that I'm falling? Literally? I'm half way off my seat! My eyes are par on par with the table. My head is, like, almost under it.

With a jerk of my head, I push my bangs to the side, so I can quickly look up to my friends from underneath the table.

They're all laughing at something Trevor said.

Wow, I'm gone, under the table, and they really haven't noticed. I could have left to go use the washroom, or went off with some _guy _and they wouldn't have even noticed! Great friends.

I slowly lift myself back up onto the edge of my seat, secretly hoping that that wasn't gum my hand just slid against. Ew.

Seriously, who thinks it's cool to put gum underneath a table? Its disgu- Hello! Who is that over there?

My eyes fall on a tall, slim girl in the corner, looking bored. She has long blond hair. Its stick straight and damn gorgeous. It isn't beach blond, but _bleached_ blonde. It looks natural from here. I can tell that her eyes are either green or blue, but I'm too far away to know which one for sure. She has large, Angelina Jolie type lips that are just aching to be kissed, and she has more of an olive-tanned skin tone then a pale one. Of course, I notice all that after I notice her _speedbumps,yaya's,melons,grapefruits,jugs,hooters,airbags,bazookas,milkshakes,Berthas,Ben and Jerrys,boobs,boobies,breasts. _HELLO! They look to be a solid 36 D. No, 38 D. Is there such a thing as 42 DD?

Needing to react fast since there was only 10 minutes left for lunch, I back hand Trevor's arm to grab his attention.

"Drake, What the hel-"

"Who's that?" I whisper quickly.

"Who?"

"That! That chick over there?" I say pointing to a very gorgeous blond with the *insert your favourite breast slang here* in the corner.

"Oh, her. Dude, thats _Victoire_-" Trevor says Victoire with a heavy thick French accent that sounds more Chinese than anything. "She from France. A little town called Comtat Venaissin, I think?"

"Come-tat Vanaysen?"

"Yup! That's the one"

"So why is she here then?"

"She's visiting her cousin for 3 weeks. Luckily for you, this weekend is her last weekend in the great land of the U.S of A.

I give a small laugh and stand up straightening my back, looking confident. Well I'm off to go collect my girl for this Friday and/or Saturday Night.

I walk down the long stretch from my table to hers, ignoring the giggles from Josh, Mindyand Craig and Eric when I walk by.

Finally, when I reach her in her stuffy little corner, I offer her my sweet, innocent smile. As if I'm not up to something selfish.

"Bon-jur" I say putting out my hand "Hi, I'm Drake". Her green eyes look at me widely. I can tell my smile already has her hooked.

"_Uhh, Hello, Drake"_ She says in a thick French accent. She roles the R in Drake. Hot. She's probably good with her tongue.

"So, I hear you're from France? Or better yet, the small town of Come-tat Vanaysen."

Her cousin huffs out a loud snort as Victoire giggles at what I just said... why? What did I just say? Oh please, don't let it be something stupid.

"_Hahah, I am from Comtat Venaissin, but it is not, uh, a petite town, it iz a provence. I am from Avignon"_

I look at her rather confused. I guess she can tell that I'm not the brightest bulb in the package of Sylvania Light Bulbs.

"A province?" I ask, trying to play cute and ignorant. I really wish I was just playing cute and ignorant, but I really had no idea. I feel so... un-cultured.

"_Uhh, a provence en France iz ze equivalent to uhh, a state? Iz zhat correct?" _Victoire turns to her cousin who just nods in silence, staring off into what I would guess would be the land of her head.

"_Yess, a state. A provence iz ze equivalent to a state in ze Etats-Unis"_

"Eh-tats Ew-nee?" I say questioningly.

Her cousin, who's still staring off into space answers my question. "She means the United States. She gets flustered around cute guys and forgets normal, important words." She says dryly.

"Ah, I understand" I say smiling to Victoire, who, in return, giggles.

"Hey, Victoire, how do you make that R sound?"

"_Ahh, I am not zure, it just happenz. I believe it iz a mixture of phlem and ze tongue"_ I give a small laugh. Phlem. And she pronounces tongue with the 'UE' at end.

The warning bell rings behind my head. I have never been good at picking my moments to do something important.

"Well Victoire, I guess that means I have to get to class. But how about you teach me how to make that R sound during a movie, on... hmm, let's say Friday Night?"I say giving her my best flirtatious smile.

"_Alright, Drake, I am in agreement with you. I will be seeing you on Friday Night at ze movie theatre" _She replies trying to hide her smile with her slender, manicured hand.

"Perfect, your cousin here will know which theatre I'll be waiting for you at." I say winking at her cousin.

"Fuck off, Drake"

"Alrighty. Bye Lucy! Byeee Victoire!" I say like a child in a high pitched voice and waving pathetically, making Lucy role her eyes and Victoire giggle some more.

I turn around and begin to walk away.

"_How do you know Drake, Lucy?" _I hear Victoire's quite voice in a whispered tone.

"I dated him for almost a month in Grade 10."

"_Ahhhh..."_

"Stay away from him. He's a man-whore, Victoire. He'll sleep with anybody who's willing."

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><p>After detention with Hayfer, which by the way, was the equivalent to hell, I get Trevor to drive me home. It's a quite ride. Well, Trevor's music is blasting to the point that I'm sure my door is vibrating against my skin, but no one is talking. We don't know what to say to each other.<p>

After what feels like 2 awkward hours, which sadly was only 15 minutes, we pull into my drive way. I give him a quick thanks along with a ten dollar bill for gas. I try to exit quickly, before Trevor can ask me anything, or even say "No problem, man" like he always does when he drives me home.

Trevor may be an idiot, but he is always the first to know when I'm feeling down, which is usually when me and Josh are fighting. He can just tell. Maybe it's just intuition? Trevor doesn't care for dates of wars, or what 2x15 to the power of 5 is, but he does care for his friends. And he might fail when it comes to anything to do with school, but he'll jump at the chance to help me out and get me or anyone to talk about their problems.

But what problem do I have? So Josh hasn't talked to me in a few measly days. So my parents grounded me without asking me about my holiday. So what if I haven't really talked to them since their return. So what. I don't care. No, really I don't. But Trevor wouldn't believe that, which is why I make my escape quick.

I walk into the house only to find it feeling slightly empty. Is anyone home?

Sighing, I go into the kitchen and see my mom rushing, grabbing about 50 papers.

"Hi, Mom" I say weakly. "Do you want some help with those?" I ask sincerely, pointing to the papers.

She looks up startled "Oh, oh, Hi Drake""

"So, do you want some help?"

My mother lets a frustrated breath. "Not now Drake, I don't have time to listen to you lie about how you got detention, again. I'm in a hurry!" She says as she side steps me.

"Oh, by the way, I will be gone for dinner, so make yourself something edible and not just candy!" With that she is out the door.

Wow, I thought I'd at least get a simple "Hello, Drake, how was your day?" Oh well. Boo fucking Hoo, right? Who cares, I don't. So my mother doesn't have time for me. No! Stop! She was just busy, she is not ignoring you!

Feeling down, I walk over to the fridge and open it. I peer at its content. Hmmmph. There's nothing sugary enough for my taste. Actually maybe I should try and listen to my mom. Maybe she would proud that her son didn't disobey her _again_ and just had something sugary.

I'll try something healthy of Josh's. I open up two containers that are both labelled **'JOSH**' in bold lettering. Maybe if I mix this... green stuff with that brown sludge, I'll create, oh never mind! I'm no cook. Screw Mom's request.

I walk over to the cabinet and grab a bag of Cheese Balls along with some Flutter Nutters and Whizzers. From the behind the fridge, I grab my secret 2 litre bottle of Dr. Fizz

Now I'm happy. I have my junk food. I have a whole house to myself. And I slide the swinging door open only to find Walter lying on the couch, in a cocoon of pillows and blankets. A Dr. Fizz and a bowl of soup placed neatly on the table with about a dozen scattered Kleenexes.

"Uhh, Hey Walter, not feeling well?" I ask, trying to sound gentle. I know that when I'm sick, I hate it when people talk to loud. It hurts my ears.

Walter turns his head slightly toward mine, before collapsing against his pillow again.

"Okay, I'll take that as a yess..."

"Pwease go away Dwake, I need to swe...swee..swe- ATCHOOO!...guhh, exwuse me. I need to sweep" Walter says slowly with a hint of pain and irritation in his voice.

I open my mouth to say something but am cut off by Walter.

"Amd I weally don't want to know your lie about how you got detention, again."

"Alright, I know when I'm not wanted." I say harshly before running up to the safety of my room, skipping every second step so I can get there as soon as possible.

'Finely', I think opening my door, 'A room to my-"

I stop mid thought, blinking in confusion when I hear something squeak on the coach.

"Uhh, hello?" I say.

"Ohh, h-hey Drake...DRAKE?" Josh says tiredly before going into full spazz out mode. And then I see why. _Creature_ is lying beneath him. Her hair just slightly sticking up over the arm chair. That's when I notice that Josh is sweating. And that Josh doesn't have a shirt on. And that he's only partly in his boxers. I try to block out anything else that is naked _underneath_ him.

Oh-My-God.

"_Jos-Mind-Fucking_. I. Shit!" I almost scream, but somehow retain my surprise and just yell the words instead.

"Oh, Okay, I'm leaving!" I say slamming the door. Aghast and feeling disgusted, I turn to walk away before I decide to walk back up to the my door and yell. "Next time lock the damn door, Josh!".

A shiver runs up my spine as the thought of what those two were doing enters my mind. I am never sitting on the couch again.

So... where can I go? With my food?

Okay, definitely not Megan's room. Just passing her closed door scares the living daylights out of me. Maybe I can eat my junk food and drink my soda in Mom and Walter's room?

I walk into their bedroom only to find my little sister, on the phone, lying on my parents king sized bed, giggling away.

I clear my throat. Waiting...waiting...waiting. My sister still hasn't turned around to look at me. Okay, so that clearing my throat thing didn't work. Movies have lied to me.

"Uhh, Megan" I say annoyed, her attention quickly turning to me.

"And I was like... oh, hey Drake. Leave."

"But-"

"Can't you see I'm on the phone?"

"Ya, but,"

"Drake! You're so rude, I'm on the phone!" she screams at me.

Ears bleeding. Ears bleeding! Ears bleeding again!

Fine. I obey. I know when I'm not wanted.

I leave again and enter the garage only to find myself sitting in my car. Well mine and Josh's car. But right now it feels like it just belongs to me. It's completely mine. It won't throw me out of a room. It won't leave me.

Leave me? What the-

That's not the point. The point is I was kicked out of every room of my house, and here I am in my car. Alone. Again.

Again.

Why do I feel like crying?

* * *

><p>That night I wake up at 2 am to the sound of Josh's snoring. God, that boy could be a living construction site with how loud he is.<p>

"_I have congestion and sinus problems_" He meekly said to me when we first moved in together. Wow, that was 3 years ago.

I turn my body and yell at him to shut the hell up, like I do every night. But, like every other night, it doesn't do a damn thing.

So, tonight I decide to improvise. I grab the first thing my hand reaches- a clock- and throw it at Josh's head. Unfortunately my aim is a bit off at 2 am in the morning, so it hits his side instead. I see Josh's silhouette as he turns over. He's smiling.

"Ahhaaa.." He giggles in his sleep.

"Mindyyy, that tickles!"

Min..._Creat... _GAHHH! ...Ew. I slam my hands over my ears to stop the noises, but they just keep coming.

"Mindy, stopppp, We're in Drake's beddd'

Holy hell!

Okay, I can't handle this anymore.

I get up from my now infested by Josh's dream bed and slide easily down my ladder. I run over to my desk, where, luckily, a clean pair of pants, a shirt, and socks are waiting for me. Okay, so the socks aren't clean, but who cares at 2 am in the morning! I quickly get changed and put on my jacket that's hanging on the back of my bedroom door.

Finally, I reach my window and open it. I slide out and fall to the ground. I quickly recuperate and dust myself off. I have to move. I have to walk. Not caring where I go, I begin running down the street towards a park that's about 2 miles away. That's a good enough distance, I think.

Why a park? I dunno, but I sure as hell know that there's no way I'm staying in that house tonight.

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><p>Yay, another chapter uploaded :)<p>

Unfortunatly this is starting out rather slow. I'm just trying to show that he's feeling upset and lonely, instead just saying it (even though, I think I did end up doing that -_- ).

Tell me what you think :)


	3. Chapter 2

Chapter 2 is up, whooohoooo! And thank you so much for the reviews, SorrowNoMore (I love your name, by the way), Bellsdestiny, and Tori666000. You guys are awesommeee :)

This is a shorter (the ER being the key letters :p) chapter, but kind of important. Major Character introduction, teehee!

Warning: Language.

Disclaimer: I do not own Drake and Josh

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><p>Chapter 2<p>

By the time I hit the park, it's almost 3 am. It's cold, and the ground is still wet from today's storm. I can feel the icy wind playing with my hair while also turning my lips a nice shade of blue.

Apparently, tonight was not the night to sneak out due to a miniature breakdown. Josh would call it a 2 am spazz session due to exhaustion, but I, Drake, say miniature breakdown because I, Drake, do not ever suffer from 2 am spazz sessions. Ever.

The wind is picking up slightly, making me regret not wearing a larger coat. Even if it's freezing fuckin' cold outside, tonight is really a nice night.

The moon lights up the sky. If Megan hadn't said that she was having a sleepover with her friends tomorrow night because a full moon would be out (they wanted to try out some spells that they had learned online), I would've sworn that tonight was the full moon.

The smell of raindrops still linger in the air. There are small puddles formed on the sidewalk that are so calm and still, I can almost see my reflection. The trees are blowing in the air, creating a rhythm of its own. If I close my eyes, for some reason, the sound reminds me of an ocean. The waves brushing against the rocks and sand.

There are probably around 3 street lights in this park, so it really isn't that big. Its big enough to have a small picnic, or for kids to play around, or to do what I'm doing; relaxing to the sounds of nature.

I find myself tired out and decide to sit down on a wooden bench nearby. I can feel the perspiration from the wood on my fingertips. The wooden bench has become dry from any water droplets left behind earlier, but it still has that wet tinge to it. If it wasn't so cold, it would be soothing because it pretty much completes my imaginary beach scenario that has been filling my head since I got here. How so? Its wet without actually being wet, just like that line of sand 3 feet away from where water meets land. It's a far fetched idea, but a beach is much more relaxing then a park at night. I really need a beach at the moment.

I close my eyes and take a deep breath, letting my shoulders droop slightly forward, relieving some of the stress that I didn't even know I had been holding on to.

"Y'know, a pretty boy like yourself shouldn't be out in a park this late at night, somebody might try to take advantage of you." Says a calm voice in front of me. I instantly open my eyes and look up, only to see a tall silhouette of a man. The moon is shining full force behind him, making me unable to see his face, or anything else for that matter. It's just the outline of his body that I can see. Everything else is hidden by darkness.

He laughs quietly, probably by the look of my stunned face. "Luckily for you" He lifts his hand so that it is in front of his chest, his index finger pointing at nothing. "I am not one those people."

"Ya" I reply sarcastically "That's really lucky for me." This is just what I want. Some dark creeper-shadow person talking to me at 3 am in the morning in a park. Well, this is my ideal scenario of a fun time, wouldn't you agree?

"What are you doing out here at-" He turns his wrist so the back of his hand is facing upward. He moves his head slightly down. I think he has a watch on? Maybe he's trying to see what ti-

"3:38 am in the morning?"

-time it is... cool, I was right.

I roll my eyes, trying to look as confident as possible, but failing miserably as my shoulders rise to my ears, shaking.

"Personal issues." my voice cracks as I try to speak.

The man looks at me, he probably has pity written all over his face.

With a sigh, he moves and sits on the edge of the bench, his feet on the side of it, his back facing me.

Is he doing that on purpose? Trying not to show me his face? Is he horribly disfigured like that elephant guy in that one movie... oh, what was it? ...Right! The Elephant Man?

"I can totally relate dude." He says after about a minute and a half of silence.

"Ya? How?" I reply in a sarcastic tone.

"Well, I may not know what you're going through, but I know that I'm dealing with personal issues of my own."

From this angle I can tell he has blond hair. His silhouette is no longer against the moon, so I can make out some colour. He has a buzz cut that is spiked at the top of his head. This man, I also notice, has a football player's body. Broad shouldered, bigger but not fat. He just looks like has beefy ass arms underneath his black Armani Jacket. Wait... Armani? I bring my face a teensy weensy bit closer to the jacket to study it's features. Yup, that is definitely an Armani Jacket.

I back away slightly and let myself collapse against the bench with a battered sigh.

"What's going on in your life?" I don't know why, but I feel compelled to ask.

"Hmmph, well, before I begin, how are you on the topic of homosexuality?" Direct and to the point. Interesting. He asks this with a tinge of fear, though. He hides it well. His voice is low and husky, but it remains calm.

I turn my head slightly toward this mystery man.

" What do you mean?"

"Like, are you totally against it, like-" He raises a fist in the air "_homosexuality is a sin therefore I must kill every gay and lesbian person alive" _He yells in a low, mocking tone. "Or are you okay with it, or do you really care?"

"Umm..." I say, pursing my lips into a thin line while thinking.

"Well, I don't really care personally. As long as a person is okay with it and they aren't hiding who they truly are, a-and they aren't stalking me to the max, I don't really concern myself with that." I sigh and think about his question for a quick second before answering again " A person should be able to be who they are without being judged against, I guess that's what I realy think."

Even though Mystery-Football-Shadow-Boy is facing the opposite direction of me, I know my answer pleased him. Even if it was kind of short and to-the-point.

"Did you just figure out you're gay or something?" I ask in sympathy... or would that be empathy?

"Oh no. Not quite. I've know for a while" I can see that he's twiddling his thumbs in nervousness.

"Ahh, so what's the problem?" I shift my position so I can get comfy. I may be here for awhile. Now my hands are attached to the back of my neck and my right leg is crossed and dangling over my left. I'm in my cool position, as some girls have called it. I call it my comfy position...it's pathetic, I know. I have names for my various sitting positions. I have a lot of time to think about these kind of things during school, it's not like I'm doing anything important.

"The guy that I've been with since I first came out just broke up with me. He said I was too intense, that I seemed to care more about my job than him, but-" His voice cracks slightly. He clears his throat before he continues to speak.

"I had to care more about my job. My income was our main source of money. If we wanted to eat, I had to work a lot of extra hours. I did it for him. But, he didn't see it that way."

He's trying hard not to cry, so I lift my hand to his shoulder and give it a good squeeze.

"I-I mean we've been broken up for two weeks, but I thought for sure we'd get back together. So tonight I went to his house to talk, and he had already moved on" His voice is tainted with disgust. I keep my hand on his shoulder, slightly rubbing it in a comforting manner.

"So-" He begins, clearing his throat and suppressing a sniffle. He turns his face towards mine, and I can finally see the details. He is definitely not disfigured like that Elephant-Man guy. He has gentle green eyes that look like they have seen their fair share of bad weather... tahaa, get my metaphor? ...No? Well, Mrs. Hayfer doesn't hate me for nothing. His face is more narrow then round, his nose included. The tiniest bit of stubble can be seen on his chin.

And his lips are fine and thin and pink- opposite of my blue and shivering ones at the moment.

Finally looking at his face entirely, I realize that this guy cannot be more then 2 years older than me, at the most.

"Why are you out here?" He asks.

I give him a sincere smile, which at the moment is nothing larger then my lips just turning slightly upward. It's too cold to perform a genuine smile. My teeth might catch frost bite! And then they'd fall out or have to be removed. And then I'd be ugly, with no teeth, which would be ugly. And since I've never been ugly before in my entire life, people would start to hate me and call me names. Then when they'd get bored with the name calling, they would shun me due to my hideousness. Then, after years of being shunned, I'd move to Idaho, becoming a hobo named Bodge who lives on the street corner, begging for money. And it was all because I tried to give a genuine smile to a stranger. See! This is why I don't do nice things for people on a regular bases. Bad things happen to good people! That is the truth, Children. If you ever want to get anywhere in life, don't be good. Being good is badddd. So, if being good is bad, why not just be bad? Thats my motto!

Finally I turn back to Mystery-Football-Shadow-Boy , answering his question. "My family is ignoring me, and I guess I couldn't handle being in that house at the moment, so to clear off my head, I came here. The beach was too far away"

"Uh-huh... Any reason why you came to this park specifically?"

"N-no, I don't believe so. I mean, me and my Dad used to come here all the time when I was a kid, but that is pretty much all the exposure that I've ever had with this place."

"And your dad, is he ignoring you at the moment, too?"

My small smile instantly turns into a frown, and my head falls towards my chest. I just shake my head sadly.

"No, he's not ignoring me, although I wish he was. He would know exactly what to say to me at this moment."

"So... If your Dad isn't ignoring you, why can't you talk to him?"

It's been 8 years, 11 months and 6 days. I can still see my Dads smiling face.

"... He's dead."

I can hear his breath come to a halt. "Shit, dude, I'm sorry, I thought- I'm sorry, I didn't mean to bring up anything bad!"

It's at this moment that I realize that my hand is still on his shoulder, and that now his hand is over top of mine securely. Rubbing it.

"It's okay dude, you couldn't have known. No need to fret." Smiling, I lift myself off the bench regretfully. The way I see it, departings are always bound to happen one way or another. Might as well get this one over with.

"Listen dude, it's getting late...or early, I guess. And I have to get to school soon." Mystery-Football-Shadow-Boy loos up to me, _hurt_ written on face, like the one person he has been able to talk to is leaving him behind.

This guy is alluring, I think it's his eyes. Emotions are scattered behind them, and I can hear them talking to me in silence. _Trust me, trust me_. This guy has been nothing but sincere, so I guess maybe I can say what's truly on my mind?

"Thanks for asking me what my problem was. It was kind of a manlier way of saying 'Are you okay?', right?" ... It's a miracle! Drake Parker can actually say whats on his mind!

"Ya, you looked kind of down." Mystery-Football-Shadow-Boy says, bringing me out of my self-indulgent thoughts. "I was worried. But I didn't want my gayness to shine right through the moment I started talking to you, because for all I know, you could've been a 'KKK' for homosexuals." He says laughing.

I nod my had in content. "Ya, but thank you. No one has really given me the light of day for a while, so hearing concern in your voice kind of made me feel good. I really appreciate it." I'm being honest. I'm being truthful. This hardly ever happens. Especially with a stranger. A strange who is a guy. A gay guy... Ohhhh, the things that happen to me.

Within a second I can see his face fall. "Are you seriously being ignored?"

I just give a small shrug. "Not really, but everyone has been so busy that they haven't talked to me like a human-being for a while. I mean my mom talked to me today, but that was all in anger, and my Step-dad too, but that was to tell me to get out that room so he could sleep-" I laugh meekly, thinking about Walter being cocooned underneath all those blankets.

"I guess I should probably say thank you as well." Mystery-Football-Shadow-Boy stands up and faces me. Holy shit, he's huge! Not huge as in fat/beefy, but huge as in tall. Fricken' tall. Like a giant. I'd say that he's probably an inch or two... or three... taller than Josh. If I stood straight as a pin and pressed myself against him, my eyes would be par on par with his Adam's apple. And I'm 5'11!... 5'10 and 1/2... 5'10... Oh alright, I'm just a measly 5'9 and ½!

"I guess just seeing someone who was as down in the dirt as I was made me feel slightly happy, as sick as that may sound." I lift my hands up, palms facing outward in my 'no offence taken' pose.

Mystery-Football-Shadow-Boy takes a quick look at his watch. His eyes almost jump out of their sockets when they read what the digital lines say.

"Shit, its 5:30, dude. I have to be at work in 45 minutes... and it takes 30 minutes to get there. Shit! Shoot! Shiittttt! My boss is going to kill me!"

I almost burst out laughing at his state of panic._ Almost._ Instead, I offer him a small smile. "Okay, well then, I have to be at school in 3 hours, so I should probably head home before anyone realizes that I snuck out"

"See ya, dude" We both say at the same time. We give each other a small wave before rushing off into the opposite direction. I walk down the paved road quickly, that is, until I hear a yelling behind me.

"Heyyy!"

I turn to see Mystery-Football-Shadow-Boy running towards me.

"What's up?" I yell as I stop mid step to let him catch up to me.

When he reaches me, he's panting. I know he's trying to ignore his lungs that are begging for air when he begins to speak. "Listen, if you ever need to talk again dude, ummm, I,... here's my number. Just in case. I'm not, like, trying to hit on you, it's just, I-"

Without warning, and without thinking, I lightly slap his arm, and take the ripped piece of paper. The number looks like it was written with muddy dirt. I glance towards his hand and realize that I am, in fact, correct. His number was written with muddy dirt.

"Thanks man, I appreciate it."

Now, I decide would be a good time for introductions. I hold out my right hand towards his.

"By the way, I'm Drake."

He brings out his right hand, that is slightly covered with muddy dirt, and we give each other a solid shake.

Baring his bleached white teeth, he says-

"I'm Kayle."

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><p>Well, I hope you guys like it, and I hope the dialogue wasn't too confusing : I'm trying to read it like I didn't write it. It's friggin' difficult! :p

... And I dont know what muddy dirt is. It's dirt that is slightly muddy? I dunno. But at 3 am in the morning after being awake for 2 full days, it sounds like something Drake would say.

By the way, I actually had to look up Drake Bell's height (I went onto 5 different sites, and looked at one of my magazines from when I was little, all said relatively the same thing...) It's kind of sad, but I could't let myself just make up a number. It felt wrong.

Review :)


	4. Chapter 3

Chapter 3! Yay, I had so much fun writing this chapter. I hope you enjoy it.

Warning: Language, Underage Drinking and major Fluffyness ensue in this chapter. Be warned, it's fluffy...

Disclaimer: I am a teenager in High School in Canada... Do you think I have enough money to own Drake and Josh? ... Or the Song used in this chapter called 'Puttin On The Ritz'? Noooo... I do not own Drake and Josh... Or the song used in this chapter!

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><p>Chapter 3<p>

It has been a month since I met Kayle. Ever since we met that night, my world has slowly shifted back into its natural balance. Well, not really, but I'd like to imagine that it has.

My family is still paying me little attention, the same goes for my band. Normally, this would really upset me, but the attention I am not receiving from my friends and family, I receive from Kayle.

We have hung out seemingly every day from the moment we met.

The night after the park I called him from a pay phone downtown.

I had been on the date with Victoire, but she was tense the entire time, worried that I was going to force her to do something that she didn't want to do. So, being the gentleman that I am, I drove her home after an hour.

I walked her up to her doorstep and kissed her gently on the cheek, saying that I was glad that I had met such a gorgeous girl from Paris. She had laughed, but it was fake.

My charm was running low, I couldn't even get a kiss on the lips for crying out loud! But at that moment, I didn't really care for physical contact, I just wanted to talk with someone and have a good time.

That, of course, landed me downtown near BF Wangs, using 25 cents that I found on the ground to phone the first person that came to my mind.

He told me that he had the night off, and since his apartment was near BF Wang's, I should drop by.

He told me the direction to his apartment and said that he'd meet me outside.

"See you soon" he had said in a low flirtatious voice before hanging up.

We met outside of his building and he told me to follow him, telling me that there was a place he thought that I might like.

"If you are the kind of person I think you are, you're gunna love this place."

I was worried that it was going to be a bar of some sort, and that I wasn't going to be able to get in therefore making Kayle embarrassed and making him hate me.

We walked down the busy street for 5 minutes, when he grabbed my hand and led me into the middle of a back alley. I turned to see large metal door staring me down, daring me to enter.

'This is fucking sketchy' I had thought.

Kayle grabbed his keys and unlocked the door.

"It's a bar/club, but since you said that you were in school, I doubt that they'd let you in through the front entrance. My friend works here and gave me the keys so I could visit him through the back whenever I wanted."

He opened the door only to show a pit of black. I could hear music playing within the darkness.

"Well, don't just stand there, go on in!" He said, patting my butt as I walked by.

The bar/club was a good size. It's wasn't so big that everyone was clambered against each other with drunk rage. In a far far corner, away from everything, there were 5 stands, all with Cd's of artists that I had never heard of.

There were 8 booths, a long bar, 10 tables, a dance floor where a large group of men and women were having the time of their lives, and a stage where a band was playing some type of jazz. The room was built in the shape of a square.

"It's a different type of club" Kayle smirked at me.

"It's not very well known, which is what the owner wants. You have to know the right people to come here. They always have live bands who only play Jazz, or music from the 1920's to the 1970's. They refuse to play anything from the 1980's onward."

Kayle grabbed my hand again and led me to the bar.

"Hey Johnny-boi"

The bartender turned around, looked up from his glass that he had been cleaning.

"Hey Kayle, I haven't seen you in a while bro'. How the hell have ya been?" Johnny The Bartender had a small Irish accent, I noticed.

"Good good, Johnny-boi. This is my friend, Drake" Kayle said introducing me.

"How are ya, Drake"

I nodded my head with a smile and started listening to the music. Tapping my foot lightly, I had the sudden earge to dance.

Kayle put his head closer to Johnny's.

"Heyy, Johnny-boi, can you hook me with a Jager Bomb?"

"Certainly, would your friend here care for a drink?"

I jerked my head to look at Kayle, and then to Johnny, again to Kayle, and then back to Johnny. Shit, I'm going to be kicked out for sure.

Kayle seemed to sense my un-ease. "I dunno, Johnny-boi. Are you a drinker, Drake?"

I shook my head. "... No, I can't drink."

Arms flailing, Kayle jerked his head backwards, eyes bursting from their sockets. He looked rather shocked at my statement. "What?" He asked aghast. " Why the hell not?"

"I'm not old enough to..." Johnny and Kayle looked to each other before they raised their eyebrows at me.

"So?" Asked Johnny.

Kayle lifted his hand, reaching up to my chin, forcing me to look at him.

"Have you ever had a drink before?" He asked as if he was about to cry, like my 'No' before hand was the saddest thing he had ever heard.

I gave a loud snort.

"Of course I have had drinks before, Kayle" I slapped his hand from my chin. "I just am not old enough to buy alcohol. Especially in a bar!" I said the last part in a loud whisper.

"Ohhhhhh!" Kayle said in understanding. "Ya, we don't really follow that rule here. I'm not even 21 yet! He said throwing up his arms in the air. The quote, waving them like you just don't care enters my mind. "I'm 19 turning 20. So, technically I can't even buy alcohol either, but I do." He said, winking at Johnny.

Johnny just laughed at our conversation.

"So, what can I get for ya, Drake"

"Umm.. well, I don't really know any type of bar drinks" I replied to Johnny, who had just finished mixing Kayle's Jager Bomb.

As soon as Kayle's hand met glass, the Jager Bomb was gone.

"Johnny-boi, get me another, and for Drakey here, well..." Kayle eyed me up and down, his mouth hanging slightly open and eyebrows furred together in concentration.

"Get him an Absolut Passion"

I looked up at him, stunned. "An Asbolut Passion?" Well, that did sound good.

Johnny grabbed two glasses from underneath the counter and decided to answer my question for Kayle. "It's a shot, vodka mixed with passion-fruit juice. You'll probably like it, although I don't think anyone has ever hated it."

* * *

><p>3 Absolut Passions, and 5 Jager Bombs later, I found myself on the dance floor, dancing wildly to the rhythm of the music. The lights were low and sweat was glistening off of everyone's skin. My body was squished against Kayle's. I held onto his shoulder and his hand, while his right arm hung tightly around my waist. For Jazz dancing, you need a partner, and I didn't really want to miss out on this Jazz dancing experience, so Kayle agreed to dance with me. The only thing was I had to be girl. That was our drunken deal.<p>

"This next song is a huge hit from the year 1929. The version I'll be playing is by Fred Astaire-the radio version, not the movie version- and this classic Jazz hit is called 'Puttin on the Ritz'. So guys and gals, hold onto your partners tightly, because I have a feelin' things are about to get heated." The singer had said with a wink and a hand on his Fedora.

The band started in the background, the trumpets bursting out loudly, as if they hadn't let out sound in decades.

Kayle had begun to lead me. He moved his right foot forward, forcing me to move my left foot back.

_Have you seen the well-to-do, up upon Lennox Avenue. On that famous thoroughfare, with their noses in the air_

He then moved his left foot forward, but quickly changed his direction. My waist followed his as our feet turned us in a 180 degree circle.

_High hats and Arrowed collars, white spats and 15 dollars, Spending every dime, for a wonderful time  
>If you're blue and you don't know where to go to<em>

I began to feel dizzy and numb, not really understanding what was going on. Everything was beginning to blur together. I leaned my head against Kayle's chest, attempting to stop the spinning. I felt Kayle's hand squeeze mine protectively.

_Why don't you go where fashion sits, Puttin' on the ritz.  
>Different types who wear a daycoat, pants with stripes, And cut away coat, perfect fits,<br>Puttin' on the ritz._

Our feet pivoted, twisted, and sashayed. Our hips moving back and forth, rolling to the beat of the music.

I could feel the sweat on Kayle's shoulder, just underneath his blue shirt, dripping slowly underneath my fingertips.

_Different types who wear a daycoat, pants with stripes And cut away coat, perfect fits,  
>Puttin' on the ritz.<em>

My head, still on Kayle's chest, felt as though I were on an amusement ride. The music was ringing in my ears, and I could feel his quickened heart beat, tired from the mix of heat and dancing.

_Dressed up like a million dollar trouper, Trying hard to look like Gary Cooper (super duper)  
>Come let's mix where Rockefellers walk with sticks,<em>

Kayle tightened his grip on my waist as he moved our bodies, turning us again. This time though, we created a full circle, my feet being lifted from the ground into the air. It happened so fast I could've sworn it was just my imagination, that is until he lifted me, the tiniest bit, off the ground again.

My stomach had begun to flip, not agreeing with the alcohol and all the turning and lifting.

I forced my head off of Kayle's chest and looked him straight in the eye.

"Kayle... I..."

_Or umbrellas in their mitts._

Kayle understood immediately. He let go of my arm, but still held tightly, almost painfully, onto my waist as we made it out the door.

_Puttin' on the Ritz_

"See ya, Johnny!" Kayle yelled.

I didn't hear Johnny's reply as I lowered my head to the wall and let myself be relieved of the contents in my stomach.

"Man!" Kayle laughed. "You cannot hold your liquor!"

* * *

><p>That was a month ago.<p>

Now, I have led us into another situation. It's the kind of situation I usually ended up dragging Josh into, but Josh hasn't really spoken to me since Christmas. So, Kayle is now the person being dragged.

Poor guy. I almost feel sorry him.

"I just don't understand it!" Kayle says in frustration.

"I know." I reply with an apologetic tone.

"I just don't understand. How does someone **lose** a Tiger?"

"I don't know." I say shrugging my shoulders.

"And when looking for said cat, why do you look in a Janitor's Closet? Better yet, why did I **follow** you into the janitor's closet?"

"Actually, I threw you into the Janitors Closet, but that's not important... and I don't know" I say softly again.

I can tell Kayle's frustrated, because he is currently ripping chunks of hair out from his skull. But I also know that he is slightly amused with the situation.

We had been at San Diego Zoo for the day when a Tiger had escaped. After being kicked out for safety reasons, and being the person I am, I had snuck back in, dragging Kayle with me. Come on, I wanted to see what a Tiger looked like close up!

After an hour of searching, we finally found the Tiger, trying to eat some cotton candy behind a Men's Bathroom. It's mouth was closed shut due to a muzzle. I noticed a long leash made its way across the pavement from underneath the beast's stomach. Using my '_act before thinking'_ life style, I jumped for the leash. I, to this moment, still cannot fathom why I did it.

Needless to say the sudden movement scared the cat. Needless to say the cat freaked out. Needless to say, it began to run. Needless to say, my hand had become caught in the leash. Needless to say, the cat was running, and dragging me along the pavement with it. That was a strong friggin' leash! I still have rope burn.

Kayle could be heard screaming from behind me, but I was too busy screaming myself to really notice it.

And that's when the Tiger jumped into the tree, pulling me along with it. The leash's fabric had not been made for that kind torture and had begun to tear. The Tiger was still slowly jumping higher and higher, trying to get away from its intruder while it couldn't bite, therefore it was left feeling defenceless. Even though it's claws could rip me to shreds, I don't think the cat had realized that yet. _Thank. God. _Talking about being ripped to shreds though, the tree was doing a perfectly good job of that without the Tigers help.

"Drake!" Kayle yelled from the base of the tree. I was near the top when he had reached what seemed to be a Californian Redwood, Aka, one of the tallest tree's in the world. It wasn't actually a Californian Redwood, but when you're attached to a Tiger, at the top of a tree, staring down at the ground, it feels like a Californian Redwood.

"Kayle! The Leash! Its-" I hadn't been able to finish my sentence. The Tiger took one last leap, rubbing the leash against a thick branch, tearing it completely.

I closed my eyes at the pain that was about to come from landing on the ground. While my body twisted and turned its way through the thin limbs, I shielded my face by my hands and arms. I could break anything in my body, as long as it didn't have an effect on my face, I was fine.

I had kept falling, twisting and turning and falling, and falling until- it stopped. I felt my breath being forced out of me as my stomach landed on something hard, maybe a thick branch? My feet weren't touching the ground.

I removed my hands from my face and looked down to my stomach to see what the hell had saved me. Even if the rescue was painful, really painful, it deserved a Thank-You.

... Well, that definitely wasn't a branch.

My eyes met Kayle's as he gently placed my feet on the ground, hands running around my waist to make sure I had my balance.

"Caught you." He said, smirking.

"Ya... thanks" I huffed.

I caught my breath as Kayle looked me over for cuts and bruised that my body had just received. "Come on! We have to go catch it!" I yelled twisting out of Kayle's grip, and running in the direction that the Tiger had taken off.

"A-are you freaking kidding me?"

* * *

><p>Later on, while still searching, I thought I heard a noise from behind the door of a Janitors Closet. I opened it and had begun looking for a light, but instantly stepped back.<p>

Grabbing Kayle's hand from behind me, I flung him into the room before I went in there completely, as well. If the Tiger was in fact in there... well, I didn't want to be the first to find out. She may have realized that she could use her claws after all.

"Drake, I-"

The room went completely dark as the door slammed shut... maybe I should have held onto that.

There was some light streaming through the cracks on the door and the walls, but not enough to actually help us in our situation.

And that's where we are now. 3 hours later, throats hurting from our screaming, hands throbbing from banging on the door, and bodies in pain from being pressed against each other. This closet was tiny, we couldn't even kneel down properly without banging our knee's on the opposite wall.

"What should we do?" I asked worried. It was getting late, at least it was Saturday, so I didn't have school tomorrow, but Kayle had to go to work at 8 am. If he wasn't there in time, hell would freeze over. His boss is a Demon Nazi, or so I hear.

"I don't know" Kayle answered earnestly. "Our screaming didn't work, and I couldn't kick the door down. We're just going to have to wait until someone opens it, and hope that we don't get charged for trespassing." A heavy sigh escapes his lips.

" So until then," He begins in a high-pitched voice "... whaddya wanna talk about?"

"Anything I guess" My voice lacks enthusiasm unlike Kayle "You talk first."

"Okay" Kayle says, taking a breath "How long have you been playing guitar?

"Since I was 7, my parents bought me one for Christmas."

"Okay, this one is a bit more tough. But I want to know. So, I'm sorry in advance... How old were you when your Dad passed away?

His voice turns serious and I can feel my throat tighten. Even the slightest mention of my Dad makes me want to tear up.

"I was 9."

"How did it happen?"

I haven't even told Josh this. He knows, but not from hearing it from me. So, why do I want to tell Kayle?

"He was an alcoholic" I reply solemnly. Maybe if I say like it doesn't matter, it won't hurt so much thinking about it. "One night he decided that he was sober enough to drive home from the bar. Of course he wasn't, though. He drove his car off the highway and flew into a tree. He... he didn't have his seat belt on."

"Did you love him?"

I look at Kayle, shocked by his words. "My father was an alcoholic, but he was still probably the best father in the world. Of course I loved him."

Kayle's eyes are, all of a sudden, harbouring 5 different emotions. Sadness, regret, pain, confusion and... is that jealousy?

"Didn't you love your Dad?" I ask quietly, nervous for his response. Kayle refuses to talk about his Dad. For obvious reasons, I don't know why that is.

Kayle gives a loud snort, shaking his head.

"Let me ask you another question."

Ignoring my question about his family, of course.

"Have you ever kissed a guy?"

Fuck. This is something I hoped would ever come up. Not With my Mom. Not with my friends. Not with Josh, and definitely not with Kayle.

Should I lie? No, Kayle would be able to tell. And then he might get mad that I had lied. Then he'd hate me. Maybe I should just spill the beans?

His gentle green eyes are boring into mine. I take a deep breath. Well, here it goes.

"Yes." I shut my eyes not wanting to look at Kayle's any longer.

"How many, Drake?" His voice is quiet, and I can feel his breath hot against my ear.

"...4"

This doesn't bother Kayle. He doesn't try to move away from me.

" Tell me about them." His voice is low and husky, like on the night that we first night. But this time there is also a different tone along with it; Lust.

"I... the first was in grade 9. I snuck out and had gone to a rave. It was on the outskirts of town, so the cops wouldn't catch us. I made a stupid mistake and decided that I wanted to try some of what was being passed around in a little baggie. When I asked what it was, someone just said 'Sugar, sweetheart'." I laughed at the memory.

"I think it was ecstasy, but I don't know for sure. I was light headed and my heart was pounding. I started talking to an older guy from my high school who had won 8 track awards. He was insanely lean and tall, with nice black hair. So during my drug induced state, I told him that I thought he was hot. He took me into a small room where we kissed."

"Who was the second?" Kayle asks after a minute.

"A guy named Jehovah from New York."

"Jehovah from New York?" Kayle laughs.

"Yess, It was at another party where I was drunk as hell. I had already made out with 8 chicks and... I was trying to get my ninth.."

"Your ninth? As in your ninth girl? How could you mistake Jehovah from New York as a girl?" He asks with his eyebrows raised.

"W-well... You see... funny thing is that, Jehovah from New York was wearing a jean mini skirt... a push-up bra with a very tight shirt, he had make-up on and his long brown hair was curled to perfection... and I was drunk."

"Ohhhh! So, Jehovah from New York was like a transvestite!"

"A Trans- Wha?"

Kayle just shakes his head at me. "He was a transvestite, Drake."

"Oh, I thought he was a cross-dresser!"

Kayle's mouth falls open, before he forces it back shut with self-control.

"Oh my...I, but... ugh, Nevermind. Who's the third?"

I give a chuckle at this one, the memory running through my mind like a movie. "Josh, my step brother. I bought him tickets to see Oprah and he freaked."

Kayle laughs as well, he has never met Josh, but he has heard plenty of stories about the crazy black haired boy.

"And the forth?"

My laughing comes to a halt.

"...A 24 year old named Bob."

Kayle nods his head. "And Drake, did you ever sleep with any of these men?"

Fuck. Shit. I really wish I wasn't such a man-whore at the moment. I really wish that Lucy wasn't right.

"...ummmm...Yes."

"Which one?" I notice that he says one. Singular. Not Ones, onessssss, with an S, plural. This makes my heart flutter and-wait, did I just say what I think I just said? ...heart...flutter... what the hell is happening to me? Maybe I should just shut up and answer his question.

"Bob"

"And how many times did you sleep with 'Bob'?"

"4 times" I answer sadly. They were kind of painful memories. Josh doesn't even know about Bob. The sex had only happened within the past year, and none of the times were enjoyable to say the least...

"Did it ever mean anything?"

"Oh god no!" I feel like puking. Mean anything? With Bob? Did Bob mean anything? Bob? Sex Bob? Ghekvkjkf... that's to disgusting to even think about.

Kayle cups my cheek and I open my eyes to see his expression. The light coming through the crack in the door illuminates his face. He isn't angry. He looks just as calm as he was when we first started asking questions out of boredom.

"I have one last question for you, Drake."

When he doesn't ask right away, I become impatient "What is it?"

"How would you like to make that number of guys you kissed a little larger?"

I gawk at him in confusion, is he hinting at what I think he's hinting? "I, Uh, what?"

His hand that is cupping my cheek falls slightly. I can feel his calloused fingers tracing the outlines of my face, stopping on my lips. "I like you, Drake. I really, really like you, and I want this-" he says pointing his other index finger from himself to me "to become something more."

I gulp, I had never thought about him like that. He's a guy! But... now that he mentions it. The holding hands, the dancing, the talking. I liked it. All of it. And I realized that when he touched me, I didn't want the sensation to ever leave.

" But I also want this to mean something. I want this to mean something, not only for me, but for you." He lowers his face to mine, looking me straight in the eye. The tips of our noses are touching. His lips are just grazing over mine. His tongue begins to tease me as he pushes and slides the tip against my bottom lip. I can feel, taste his breath against my own tongue.

I want more. I need more.

"What do you say?"

Again, going with my '_act first, think later'_ attitude, I throw my arms around his neck and close the space between us. At first we aren't moving, just standing there, lips on lips. Hands on neck.

I'm getting impatient and I guess he is too, because I can feel his tongue prodding my bottom lip, begging for an entry. I comply and open my mouth. His tongue immediately enters, exploring the new cavern. That's when our tongues meet and we begin our fight for dominance. We're moving our lips at a rapid pace. Moaning, begging for more.

His arms snake around my waist, pulling me closer to his body. His lifts me up so my toes are just barely touching the ground. All my weight is now supported by him.

In a flash, he slams my back against the wall, taking complete control. I gasp and moan into the kiss, pulling him closer. His hands begin to move from my waist, falling downward. I can feel him, grabbing and pulling at my ass, massaging it in a rough kind of way. Suacyy.

Finally, in need of breath, we regretfully pull away from each other, eyes still glazed over, a string of saliva keeping us connected.

I smile, looking at Kayle's face.

"Does that answer your question?"

* * *

><p>CHapter done!<p>

Oh god. I'm so sad. I usually hate corny romances, which is awful, because that's exactly what this chapter turned out to be... Also, I dont think 'drunken' is a word... But! Where I live it is, and for this Fan Fiction, it's going to be! I'm sorry if that annoys anyone :p

Also, I don't really like the idea of Drake doing those things with the 3 guys, but it needs to happen for what's going to come later in this fic.

WARNING! Next Chapter, I am turning it into an 'M'. Next Chapter does have soemthing bad happen, I'm not necessarily sure if it's an M itself, but might as well be safe then sorry! Also the chapter after the next is defininetly an M, so might as well change it now, eh?

Review! And tell me what you think. Did you find yourself eye rolling at the corny/ bad-romancyness? Or did you actually like it :p :)


	5. Chapter 4

Ohhh, joy. School starts again tomorrow :'( So I probably won't be updating as quickly as I have been. But... Grad 2012... woooo... Tonight is campout (a huge party out in the middle of the woods, where all the high schoolers from (sometimes) Grade 8 - To college go to party before the first day of school.) tomorrow is not going to be a fun day, haha :p

Warning: This is fic is now an M. Language, AND Something sexual does take place in this chapter. If you don't like, don't read -It is graphic... I'm a little worried about it. :/

Disclaimer: I do not own Drake and Josh.

* * *

><p>Chapter 4<p>

It is now March Break. Me and Kayle have been dating in secrecy for a little over a month. Johnny says it's really been two months, but we don't usually listen to Johnny.

Nobody knows that I am seeing someone. Some girls in my school have noticed that I am not as flirty as usual, but I just said that I have been focusing on the band. To keep up appearance, I still have lunch under the bleachers with hot girls. Nobody knows that I am in a relationship. A relationship that I am trying desperately to keep. Kayle is different, and not for the obvious reasons. I want to be close to him, he isn't just a one monther, I kind of hope he is a forever. And the way he talks to me, I know he feels the same way. It's cheesy as hell, but it's true.

"Listen, Drake, I've been thinking" Kayle begins. I look up from the magazine that I am reading- Kiera Knightley's going nude for a movie scene. Hot-t-t-ttt!

I'm over at Kayle's house for the 5th time in 3 days. March Break has been very boring. My entire band has left for the two weeks that we're out. Trevor is in San Diego, but is planning on getting high off of marijuana every day, Gary is in Mississauga, Canada, trying to get into a school there. "_You don't have to pay for doctors or hospitals there! I'm going to save so much money! Maybe I can finally get the tattoo of the foot removed form my chest!"_ Yupp, that's what he said. The other 2 guys, one who isn't even in the band but hangs out with us every day at school, are in Mexico. Tanning and getting hot girls.

I'm here, in San Diego, sitting on Kayle's sofa that was made in the 1970's (he says it's from the 1980's but, really, who is he trying to fool?), feet up on the glass table, and sippin' Dr. Fizz... that only has a little bit of Rye in it, from a large glass. This has become a normal pass time for me; the underage drinking and sitting on Kayle's sofa. Hey, it's better than being at home, not talking to anybody.

"So, what have you been thinking, Kayle?"

Kayle opens up a shelf in the kitchen that's about 12 feet away from where I am sitting, and grabs a package of cigarettes. Yes, he smokes. He does it on occasion when he feels stressed or just wants to relax. He started when he was 14. It doesn't bother me. As long as he takes a breath mint... or 5, before he kisses me, I don't really care.

I carefully take a sip from my Dr. Fizz-that-has-only-a-little-bit-of-Rye, tasting the bitter liquid before it runs down my throat.

" I want to meet your family."

And the Dr. Fizz-that-has-only-a-little-bit-of-Rye flies out of my mouth. I really don't time things well, do I?

Kayle rushes over, grabbing a cloth, and begins wiping his table.

"I'm serious, dude. I know you haven't really talked to them in a while, but you keep telling me stories. Megan's pranks, Josh's spazzing, and your parents just because I'm going to have to meet them eventually. We don't have to say that we're seeing each other, we could just act like friends. Please, Drake, Pweaaaasseeee!" He's giving me his puppy dog eyes. Damn you puppy dog eyes, you shall be the death of me one day, I just know it.

Actually I can imagine it. It'll be on a trip in Hawaii, we'll surfing on a private beach when Kayle will say "Please, Drake, Pweaaaasseeee!" I want to go swimming with the sharks!"

That is how I am going to die, and on my grave I want "_Drake Parker, 1986 -? He could never say no to those damned puppy dog eyes."_ I have told Kayle this, since he will then be the one paying for my funeral as well as being responsible for my death. This way his guilt will forever be engraved for the world to see... I am one sick, twisted little boy, aren't I?

"What? No! No! No! No! NOOooooo! Absolutaly not." I have to turn away from his eyes, or else I'll give in. And I will not give in. No! Not this time!

"Please Drake, Pweaaaasseeeee!"

"No!"

"Oh, come on!"

"Nope."

"I know where you live."

"Nyhet."

"I could just break a window, enter your house and watch your parents while they slept, then at least I'd get to see their faces! Would that work?"

"Na... You wouldn't actually do that, would you?"

"Do you think I would?"

"Yes."

"Dammit... Please, Drake, Pweaaaasseeeee!"

Fuck it, this is annoying.

"Fine!" I yell out loud. Kayle looks very pleased with himself, because he is invisibly giving himself a pat on the back. Bastard.

"On one condition" I say before we start a new conversation, I think I have him now.

"Anything, absolutely anything"

Yup, I've got him, he will so not agree to this, haha!

"I get to meet your parents."

His face falls and he just stares blankly at me. He isn't even blinking. God, I love this.

"Well, the way I see it is that you would get to meet my parents, but I get nothing in return. So, this way I would also get something." I say with a vicious, demonic smile.

"Bu-but... both my parents know we're dating!"

"I know that"

"Bu-but, my mom lives all the way in New York, that's too far to go!"

"Yess, but your birthday is coming up soon, Kayle, and I know that for your birthday you're going to visit your Dad and step mom"

"Ya, in Washington, that's like a 2 day drive and that's if my car decides to run well!"

"Well, I guess you just won't be able to meet my parents, then" I say looking away, pretending to be hurt.

Kayle's head hangs at his chest and begins to bob up and down. He's pouting.

"Fine, you can come with me during my Birthday. My step-mom has been begging to meet you, anyway."

My vicious, demonic smile fades away in an instant.

"What?"

Nahhhhhhh fuck, Kayle is going to meet my parents.

* * *

><p>When I get home, my parents are on the couch watching a movie. I can hear Megan in the kitchen, talking to one of her friends about a trip that they are going on in a few days. Megan is leaving to Montana with a friend to go horseback riding on a ranch. At least, I think that's it.<p>

_Creature _and Josh are at the dinner table, trying to see who can build a castle out of cards the fastest. I think Mindy is winning.

I pull my jacket off my shoulders and drop it to the floor, walking over to Mom and Walter.

"Hey Mom, Walter?" I say, smiling widely, eye lashes batting rapidly, showing them that I'm obviously asking something.

"Not now Drake!" My mom says with a wave of her hand. "It's just getting good"

"Ya," Walter continues just after Mom finished. "Susanne just went into a coma after a serious toe surgery, the doctors are saying that she might not make it. So shhhhhh!"

I sigh, I might as well just get this over with now. Sorry Parents, sorry Susanne, there will be no '_sshhhshing_' from Drake at this time. "Well that's interesting"

I can see my mom rolling her eyes at the sound of my voice. "Fine, I'm leaving, I was just going to ask if a friend could come over on Saturday for lunch. We've been hanging out a lot, and for some odd reason he wants to meet you."

"Ya, ya, Honey, of course. That will be just fine. But for now, shhh! This is the award winning scene!"

I look at the T.V and see a man in a doctors suit, hovering over a girl who has a very large cast on her foot, too much make up on her face, and is pretending to be asleep. It's so obvious that she's not asleep.

"I love you" The Doctor-Man says.

I hear a sob escape my mom's throat, tears streaming down her face. "Ohhh, I just love that line!" She sobs as she quickly grabs the tissues.

"G-get one for me too!" Walter's voice breaks. He's crying too.

I do not understand why Kayle wants to meet these people.

* * *

><p>Its Saturday. Worse yet, it's Saturday afternoon. Worse yet, I think I just heard Kayle's car pull into the drive way. Shit.<p>

I look out the window and see Kayle getting out of his car, grabbing what looks to be a cake. A cake? Really? I told him not bring anything! Well, I told him to get me some alcohol so that I could survive the day, but he just laughed at me. Bastard.

I reach the door, and fling it open before he can ring the doorbell.

"Mention anything, and I swear to god, your life will end" I say quietly before he enters, none of my parents are in the room, so I give him a quick kiss on the lips as well.

"Alright, Satan." He says with a smirk.

My Mom comes into the room, entering from our backyard.

"Ahhh, you must be Kayle." She says smiling, reaching for his hand. "I'm Drakes Mom, but you can call my Audrey."

Kayle smiles back and looks at her hand.

"Nice meeting you, . I'd love to shake your hand, but I'm kind of holding a cake."

My mom eyes widen when she looks at the cake in Kayle's hand

"Is that a 'La Bete Noir'?" My mom ask astonished.

"Yes, Mam" Kayle replies with a sly smile. He's killing me.

"From Extraordinary Desserts? On Union Street?"

"That's the one!"

Mom just looks to me, and then back to Kayle, mouth open, eyes in shock.

"Honey, where did you ever find this boy?"

"I don't really know. We just kind of met." I say, trying not to sound too pathetic. I am not happy with this situation.

My mom takes the cake from Kayle's arm, staring at in shock before exiting the room in a trance.

"I think she likes me!" Kayle says happily.

"Bastard"

"Yaaa, but you love me."

I roll my eyes at comment, trying to keep my anger down. "What did I say about making comments?"

"I know, but you're just so nervous, its fucking hilarious, man!" He says slapping me on the back.

My mom re-enters the room, still holding the cake.

"So how do you boys know each other? Are you in Drake's Band?" She asks, trying to keep up conversation. We both look at each other in fear.

Shit.

We never made up a story. Never even thought about it. Good going, Parker.

"Well, uhh, he, uhh well-" I stutter, my voice slowly rising to a soprano.

Shit, I may have just ruined us.

"What Drake is trying to say is that," Kayle quickly intervenes "my friend works at a club that Drake played at one time. My friend knows that I'm always looking for good, local talent, so he recommend that I try and see Drake. I did. I liked what I saw." I can see from the corner of my eye, giving me a small wink. Bastard. "-and I told him that he's talented. We've been friends ever since. I guess we get along well because there isn't a huge age difference and we like the same kinds of things."

"Ahhh, well isn't that nice. What club was that again?"

This time Kayle's eyes widen and he looks to me for help, so I step in, taking action.

"I'm not too sure mom, I can't remember the name of it. I just know where it is"

'_Shit. Shouldn't have said that'_ I think, immediately regretting my words. Please don't ask where it is. Please don't ask where it is. Please don't ask where it is.

"Oh, well, where is it?"

"I-"

"Who wants Josh's Limeade?" Walter says as he comes into our view.

"I'll take some, Walter!" I answer quickly.

"Alrighty" Walter replies. He comes to the table, puts the limeade down, brushes his hands off on his pants and offers to shake Kayle's hand.

"Hi, I'm Walter, Drake's step dad and weatherman on Channel 5 News. But I'm sure you already knew that."

"Channel 5, eh?" Kayle begins, shaking Walter's hand calmly. "That station is so much better then Channel 7, and their weatherman, what is his name...Moose Minefield? Bruce Springfield?"

"Bruce Windshield" Walter replies dully.

"Ya, him! I hate him. He's horrible."

Walter gawks at Kayle. I can see love swimming through his eyes. "I do too!"

"He never gets it right," Kayle continues "And what's up with his hairdo? I mean seriously, it's just kind of creepy."

" I know!" Walter replies "The other day he said it was going to be 75.0 degrees Fahrenheit, oh noo buddy, it was obviously going o be 72.3 degrees Fahrenheit, I was right, but you know, no one ever seems to-"

This time Walter is cut off by Megan, who hits my arm as she walks by.

"Hey Boob, is this the guy?" She says as she stops in front of Kayle.

"This is him" I reply to her, rubbing my now sore arm.

"Hi, I'm Megan." She greets him smiling, but not all that interested in the man standing in front her.

"Hey Megan, I'm Kayle. Drake has told me alotttt about you."

He leans down to my sisters height and whispers loudly, so the entire family could hear "I kind of have a pest problem underneath my apartment, he's very loud, so I was wondering if you had any advice to make this noise... go away." He gives her a wink as he says this. Bastard.

"Ya," She says smirking. "I have some advice, talk to me later, though, I have to go call Jeanie about the trip." She begins to walk away, but quickly stops, giving Kayle a high five. She likes him. She likes the Bastard.

"So, great, now everyone has met Kayle, let's sit down and eat! Kayle has to leave by 2, and, oh goodness me, look at the time, it's already 1:06!" I yell, interrupting my own thoughts. I grab Kayle's and my Mom's arms as I try to get them outside.

"What? I don't have to leave by 2:00?" Kayle looks at me incredulously.

"What? But you have to get to work!"

"Oh, yahh. I took the day off!" He says with a smile, before turning back to my family. "Do you need any help preparing for lunch?"

"Well if you're offering, that'd be great! Let's go outside first though, Mindy and Josh are waiting for us" My mom says excitedly, taking his hand and leading him out to the backyard, Walter falling immediately behind them, grabbing the cake.

Megan comes out of the kitchen through the swinging door. She takes one look at me and my suffering state, smiles and says "I like him", before skipping off to the backyard to find Kayle.

Bastard.

Oh ya.

"Megan!" I yell, just before she exits.

Turning around, the small smile of Satan written on her face, she says "Yes, Drake? What do you need, my dear older brother?"

I choose to ignore the ever-so-sweet response that just tells me that she's planning some attack for me later. "How do you say Bastard in French?"

The Satanic smile leaves and is replaced with confusion. "Why?"

"Because Bastard in English is getting boring."

Megan smiles widely at my explanation. The glimpse of evil is back on her young, innocent face.

"Salaud." And she skips out the door, leaving me alone in the room.

Salaud, huh…

… How on earth does she know that?

* * *

><p>"-So I said, Sorry Hun, but I don't eat tomatoes!" Kayle finishes his story as the entire table bursts into fit of laughter.<p>

Everyone is enjoying themselves except for me, for obvious reasons, and Josh, who has been glaring daggers at Kayle the entire time.

"So Kayle," Josh begins in a harsh tone. No one seems to notice it except for me. I look at Kayle, and I can tell he noticed as well, he's just pretending that he didn't.

"How old did you say you were?" I know that this wasn't what Josh wanted to ask, but for some reason he's holding it in. He's angry, but trying not to let it show.

"I, my dear friend, am Nine-teen years young, soon to be Twenty though. My birthday is in a couple of weeks."

An _ahhing _sound comes from Josh.

Mindy, trying to be friendly, decides to ask some questions as well, although hers are harmless. Actually.

"Where do you work, Kayle?" A lust for blood is seeping through her words.

"At the moment I work for CA Technologies. I am not part of the technology part of it, I distribute the products for the Stock Markets. As well, I'm currently on the list for a position at Nasdaq in New York. I've talked to the CEO at Nasdaq, because the guy is kind of my Uncle, and he says that I have the best chance of getting in. So hopefully, I will be working there this time next year."

"B-but you're nineteen!" She says stunned. "How did you get work at CA Technologies? You need a business degree, an education, money, and-"

"-I got the job because, every summer from when I was 7 to when I was 16, I spent at my Uncle's house, who, again, is the CEO of Nasdaq. He taught me more about the business then what I would have learned in 4 + years of University. He also sent my application with a very long recommendation letter to CA Technologies when I moved here. The only reason I have my job is because of my Uncle. It's very unfair, I know."

As Kayle tells his story, I watch Josh, who is inwardly fuming. Why the hell is he so angry? If anyone should be angry, it's me. For him ditching me to hang out with his _precious girlfriend_.

He finally takes his eyes off of Kayle and turns to me. He shakes his head in disgust.

That's it. I push back my chair and grab the unwanted attention of my family. "Umm, I'm just going to go inside for a second. I'm kind of craving a Dr. Fizz"

Kayle gets up at the same time as well. "A Dr. Fizz, eh? Can I come with you, I kind of want to grab myself a drink as well." With that, we both take off towards the kitchen. As soon as we're in, I slide the doors of the lookout window thing to the living room closed. I lean back, and collapse in a stool chair. Kayle is wandering through my fridge. "Man, this is too fun. You're entire family adores me, your brother hates me, his girlfriend loves me, and you are freaking out. This is the best day of my life!" He finishes with a happy sigh, grabbing a water bottle and opening it, letting the liquid slide down his throat.

"Y'know, this secrecy thing, it's kind of turning me on." His mouth parts, so his tongue can slowly run over the top of his lip and then the bottom. It's the over used "I'm horny in a cheesy kind of way" physical expression.

I look up at him in exhaustion. "You're sick." I scold.

"Ya, but-" He grabs my arms and throws my back against the wall between the door and the lookout window. "You love me" He says, bending down, gently brushing his lips against mine. I groan and begin to pout when he moves back.

"Well maybe we could do just a little something." I feel energy coming back into my system, a dark expression falls onto my face.

I grab his arms and turn us around so he is the one against the wall. I grab his waist and go up onto my tip toes, so I can talk into his ears.

"You're right, Kayle, this secrecy thing is very hot" I whisper with a lustful tone.

"We should do things-"

Kayle's voice hitches in his throat. "What kind of things, Drake?"

"Dirty things, Kayle, dirty, naughty things." I whisper biting his ear, before lowering myself onto my knees, my head on par with the zipper on his jeans.

"I like where you're headed with this, Drake."

We have never done _this_ yet, we have made out, but a hand job is about the biggest thing that we've done. I haven't wanted to rush things sexually in our relationship. I didn't want to make him run away. But, now, right now, I want this. My hands begin to unbuckle the belt on his jeans, and when that's off, I begin to work on his zipper. I can feel the bulge underneath my fingertips becoming more prominent. I tease Kayle by rubbing my hand up and down his crotch, very gently. A moan escapes his lips, pleading for me to continue.

I place my finger tips on the hem of his jeans and slowly pull them downward. Kayle's black Tommy Hilfiger briefs greet me happily.

I look up towards Kayle, who's eyes are closed in pleasure.

"Are you ready?" I ask, my voice shaking slightly due to nerves. Kayle inhales, exhales, and then nods his head.

In a second I rip his briefs off. I stare at it in shock. It's huge. Just like the body of its owner, so shouldn't I really be all that surprised. I guessed it was going to be big, but not necessarily that... round.

I take my hand and graze my fingertips over his ball sack, moving upward slowly, grasping his dick. I notice that he shaves.

I begin to lick the head and I slide my tongue across his indent. Slowly, I taste test just before I go down on him completely, making sure I won't gag whenever I do begin. Is this how girl's feel when they do this? Are they this nervous?

I bring my head to the base, extending my tongue and sliding it across his length, and back down again, rubbing it with my hand as well.

"Drake, I, please-" He gasps. It's fun being the torturer for once.

I take a deep breath and take his whole length at once. I hear Kayle hissing above me, begging for more.

I move my head up and down his length, sucking and moving my tongue, I'm taking it slowly, to get used to the taste when I feel Kayle's hips thrust it deeper into throat, forcing me to gag. But I don't stop.

I remember last year, Myra Kelly had given me a blow job in a bathroom stall at the mall. She hummed, and the _vibrations-_ o_h, god_,- they had felt so good.

I raise my eyes up to look at Kayle's face as I begin to hum.

His mouth opens in pleasure. "Oh, god Drake." He gasps. His hands grab the back of my head, forcing himself farther in.

I continue to hum, and suck as if it were a lollipop. A very disgusting lollipop.

That's when I realize that this is not as pleasurable as I had imagined. Things are starting to turn for the worse. This is actually starting to hurt.

His hands are practically tearing out my hair as he forcefully moves my head back and forth for me. He's thrusting his hips as well. Each time, I can feel his head slamming against the back of my throat. I try as hard as can to not gag and throw up.

I feel tears stinging to my eyes.

His calloused hands are gripping tightly to chunks of hair. He's thrusting to hard. I can't breathe.

Don't panic. This is normal. Don't panic, this happens all the time.

I hear his breath hitch before quickening.

"Oh god, Drake, oh god!"

I know it's going to happen soon. I try to remove my lips from him, not quite ready to swallow _it,_ but he just slams my head back down his dick. I need to breath. I need to get up. My throat is stinging from where his head slamming. I need oxygen.

Please stop, Kayle. _Please._

"Oh god, Drake. Suck, Suck it you slut! Suck it like the dirty whore you really are!"

I suck. I suck as hard as I can. I move my hand rapidly up and down where my mouth isn't, feeling the wet saliva through my fingers.

I can feel the sensation of a tear falling down my face as I continue to gag and choke.

"Oh, yes, yesss, yesss, yesss, OHhhhh!"

I feel his last thrust, the hardest, slam against the back of my throat again. He explodes. I don't think I could even swallow it properly, it was already so far down. I can taste it though.

I try to hide my disgust at the bile that rises in my oesophagus. Apparently some of his cum had pooled itself into my mouth. I am forced to swallow. It slides slowly down my stinging throat. I feel sick.

I quickly bring my clean hand to my face and wipe off the spit from my lips, as well as some of the pre-cum that landed on my cheek when I had tried to back away before his orgasm. Kayle collapses onto the ground, throwing his hands over me in a hugging position.

But, that's it. It's over. Sighing and gasping for breath, I squeeze my eyes shut, trying to fight off the tears that are begging to be released.

"Th-that...was" He starts, gasping, "fuck, the best fucking blow job I have ever gotten." He puts his hand on my both sides of my face and pulls me in for a bruising kiss. He forces his tongue into my mouth and begins exploring it, only so he can taste himself. _Disgusting_.

"I bet you're going to be great in bed" He whispers, smiling brightly, as he pulls back. I give him a small smile, feeling the tears drying against my skin before he could even know that they were there.

He pushes his face towards my ear, biting it gently. "I'm going to go clean myself, okay Hot Stuff?"

I nod, and stay kneeled on the floor as he bounds down the hall, using the swinging door as an exit, to use the washroom.

I'm trying not to think about what just happened as I force myself into a standing position. I sway a little, but I try to take a step forward. Instantly losing my balance, I fall against the oven top. I take a deep breath of air that I had been rejected of getting just a few moments ago.

'**Breath, Drake, breath. Stay calm. It wasn't that bad. Blowjobs happen all the time. You're just over reacting, you stupid slut**_._' The voice in my head calmly tells me.

Taking a glass from the cabinet with a shaky hand, I pour myself some water. I force it into my mouth, but I don't allow myself swallow it. I can't. So, instead I gurgle for 5 seconds, letting it slide slightly down my throat before forcing it back up and out into the sink.

I repeat this process 13 times before Kayle comes back in.

"You ready to go back outside?" He asks worried, his hand snaking around my waist when he comes to my side.

"Ya," My voice cracks. "Just give me a moment, I'll be out in a sec."

He smiles widely. "Alright!" He gives me a quick kiss on the tip of my nose before he bounds around the corner.

"Oh, Hey, Josh!" He says excitedly before going back outside.

Josh?

Using the swinging door as my exit, I walk, being too unsteady to run, into the other room. What the hell is he talking about, I don't see Jo-

It then clicks.

I turn around and look at the stairwell, the perfect vantage point to see what me and Kayle just did.

He's standing there, just behind the corner, so he wouldn't be seen. Mouth open, eyes wide in shock. There's no disgust written on his face. Just empathy and pity. For me? For Kayle? For the wall?

"Drake-"

"Let's go outside, man, what are you doing in here anyway?" I laugh and try to walk up to him casually, putting my arm around his shoulders.

I don't think he's knows it, but I'm using his body as support to help me walk outside. My legs are still kind of shaky. When we reach the table, I pat his back and pull away. I try not to let myself think that that was the closest we've been to each other since Christmas.

I take my seat, winking at Kayle as I do so, attempting to be casual.

"So Walter," I begin, my voice slightly raspy before I clear it. "Do we have any of Josh's famous limeade left?"

* * *

><p>That night, I sit on my bed, staring intently out the large window in front of me, thinking about everything, anything and nothing all at the same time.<p>

I used the washroom upstairs to get changed for bed about half an hour ago. I had brushed my teeth 8 times before I allowed myself to look into the mirror. I saw that I had three small bruises forming around my mouth. One was purple. One was brown. One was yellow. You couldn't really tell they were there unless you went straight up to my face and looked. A little make-up would definitely cover it up well.

Josh is on his bed, reading a large book that has a small font. He tenses when I look at him for a second. I swear, the boy has eyes on the back of his head. So, to relieve his tension, I turn back to the window, looking at the reflection of our room.

I can hear Josh give a loud sigh before he speaks. "What do you like about him?"

"Who?" I ask.

"Kayle, the 'friend' that was here earlier? Or have you already forgotten?" He says in a harsh tone.

I choose not to reply. I'm not trying to annoy Josh, I just don't know what he wants to hear.

"So I take it that you have already forgotten, then?"

"You know Josh" I begin in an equally harsh tone. "I'm not as much as an idiot as you think I am."

I look towards Josh's face and laugh quietly. Confusion, meet Josh's Eyes. Josh's Eyes, meet Confusion.

After a moment of watching Josh suffer, I decide to explain. "I saw you giving all those looks to Kayle. What's you're deal dude, he hasn't done anything wrong."

Josh just snorts at what I say, choosing to not answer me.

"Whatever man, I just don't understand why you hate him as much as you do."

"I don't trust him." Josh answers my rhetorical question as quickly as possible, like he had been waiting to say it all night.

"And why not?" I ask, raising my eyebrows and looking down at him. His long black bangs are hiding his right eye.

"You saw him with our parents, Megan, Mindy. He knew exactly what to say at every moment. How do you trust somebody like that? It's like a politician…. Not to mention there's something in his eyes that I don't like." Josh lowers the book, and lifts himself to a sitting position.

"How do you not like his eyes?" I ask baffled. I love his eyes. They're what made me fall for him in the first place. When I think 'Kayle', the first thing I see are his green eyes.

Josh shakes his head, ignoring my question, yet again. "And he was totally eyeing you up as if you were just some piece of meat, meant to be eaten. People who see other's as meat aren't trustworthy."

I have to laugh at what Josh just said. It's funny! Why is he all of a sudden caring?

"A piece of meat. That's a good one. I'm definitely telling that one to Kayle tomorrow afternoon." I bring my hand up to my face, pretending to wipe away a tear that was beginning to fall from laughter.

"You're seeing him again tomorrow?" Josh ignores my attempt at a body language joke, and just goes into full panic mode.

"Ya, we hang out like every day." I shrug, turning back to window. The reflection can still be seen. It's our room, perfectly mirrored. I can only see my silhouette, no details. I'm hidden in the dark. The light is hitting Josh's reflection perfectly, though. I can see every detail of him in this mirrored version.

"Ohhh, well, that type of clingy-ishness is definitely not good for the body. You should stay home." He's staring straight at me.

My jaw drops to the floor and I can feel my eyes trying to remove themselves from their sockets.

What. Did. He. Just. Say? He can't actually be serious, can he?

"Ya, you know you're right Josh, too much clinging isn't good for the soul." I see Mirror Josh give himself a small smile of satisfaction. I just roll my eyes before continuing. "Now, why don't you take your own damn advice and do the same with Mindy?"

Mirror Josh's face falls instantly. "Look, all I'm saying is that you should stay home. You look pale." His voice is rising as his increased frustration with me is entering the red, be aware, zone.

I get up from off my bed and jump down from the loft, staring angrily down at Josh. This isn't Mirror Josh. This is Real Josh. This is the Josh that matters.

The Josh that has refused to even look at me these past few months, no explanation ever given.

Our eyes meet, and neither one of us plans to break this newly founded connection.

"Pale my ass. Why the hell do you want me to stay home?"

"Because..."

"Because why, Josh, answer the question." Now I'm beyond pissed. We haven't spoken in months and here were are, fighting.

"Because I don't trust him. I don't like him." He yells at me. Loudly. Very Loudly. Thankfully Megan is at a sleepover and Mom and Walter are out seeing a movie. If they had heard Josh yelling like that, they would have ran into our room immediately, disrupting this very needed conversation.

"Are you saying this out of love, Josh, or are you just jealous that I got past you ditching me and found myself a new friend?" I yell back at him, equally as loud. Two can play this game, Joshie.

"Friends don't look at each other like they want to eat them."

Oh wow, good comeback Josh. Perfect way to avoid the issue at hand.

"Fuck this, I'm sleeping downstairs" I'm tired. I'm exhausted. I don't want to deal with this anymore. I let my frustration go, seemingly easily, as I grab my blanket and pillow off my bed.

"Drake!" Josh jumps off his bed and steps in front of the door, blocking my exit.

"You're right, I have ditched you. I'm sorry, I truly am. I am just dealing with a lot of personal shit right now." Hearing Josh swear is something that has never happened before. It takes me by surprise and I almost falter, almost let my eyes be taken away from Josh's. Almost.

"We haven't spoken in months, but you know what, I'm speaking now. I don't like your new friend. He's too... good. Please, I won't hangout with Mindy tomorrow, if it means you'll stay here, in this room, tonight. I, just, I think we need to talk" His face is so serious. I want to say yes, we can talk, like my gut is begging me to do. But I can't. I won't be the one to say I'm sorry this time. The way I see it is that I haven't done anything wrong. If I stay here, we'll probably just end up ignoring each other, or fighting some more. I don't want that. I'd rather have Josh ignore me than hate me and be angry at me.

The look of Josh's eyes finally enter my mind. They have a dull, black shaded rim circling around them. He's blinking constantly, trying to keep the grey orbs open. His shoulders slump subconsciously downward, begging to be put to rest.

He's just as tired as I am.

"Move, Josh." I need to end this now.

Josh lets his head fall forward, closing his eyes.

"Please, Drake..." He sounds so broken. So un-Josh like as he's begging me to stay in this room with him.

"Why do you all of a sudden care?" I hiss, dropping my pillow and blanket to the floor.

I need to leave now. I need to sleep. Josh needs to sleep. I'm helping him in the end, really. Does he not see that?

"Why?" I scream.

Josh doesn't answer. Instead, he defeatedly walks back to his bed and lies down.

The silence over takes the room like cracking glass.

I stand, staring at the door. My eyes are moving every which way.

Do I stay and talk to him? Do I leave, like I just thought that I had wanted a second ago?

I listen to the sounds of our breathing. Haggard, staggering, not on a rhythm of any sort. It's the only sound that fills this room. It's the only thing fighting against the tension and un-said words.

I need Kayle.

"You're going to his house for the night again, aren't you?" A muffled voice reaches my ears.

So, Josh has noticed that I haven't been here during the nights.

Huh, that's interesting.

I walk towards the door, opening it slowly – **Slowly, ****just like how you unzipped Kayle's pants**- my brain says, intentionally humiliating me. I squeeze my eyes shut, and suppress a sob that's trying to escape the back of my throat. **You actually liked it though, didn't you, slut**_._ I bring my hands up to my ears and shake my head, trying to block out the noises.

"Just be careful, Drake. I don't want to see you get hurt again." The muffled voice reaches me once again, rescuing me from the voice within my head.

In a second, I feel all emotion leave my body. I force my hands away from my ears and run out of the room, slamming the door shut on my way out.

I need Kayle.

* * *

><p>Chapppter done :) DAMMM, that was long. I am soooo sorry! I really wish I didn't write so much :(<p>

It's really sad actually, I looked up bakery's in San Diego, and chose the site with the most reviews. For some reason in my mind, I pictured Kayle with a chocolate cake, and I hand the hardest time finding one. I just couldn't let myself name the strawberry cheesecake that looked SOOO good, it had to be chocolate! So there really is a "la Bete Noir" chocolate cake from Extroadinary Desserts, in San Diego, on Union Street ( I looked it up on google maps. MAN! I LOVE modern day technology!)

I hope you enjoyed this, things are starting to turn around now, poor Drake. And I'm really sorry if this chapter disturbed anyone!

Review :)


	6. Chapter 5

Week 1 of senior year... Complete! Homework, homework, more homework + actual work... everday... I'm going to die in University! God, I miss summer :'( And thanks everyone for the reviews! I'm really excited about what you guys have to say about this chapter :)

Warning: This chapter contains bad langauge, abuse thats not overly graphic (I don't think?) but may be disturbing to some readers. Viewer discretion is advised :p But legit though, the middle/ending is kind of disturbing (I find it disturbing, anyways...)

Disclaimer: If I owned Drake and Josh... ohhh, how the plot lines would have been different! So No, I do not own Drake and Josh.

* * *

><p>Chapter 5<p>

The date is now March 27th. Two days before Kayle's Birthday. He's picking me up at 12 so we can leave as soon as possible. Thankfully it's a Friday, so I won't be missing too much School (I don't really give a damn about that, but my parents do). Also, today is a day off. It's one of those Pro-D days, so needless to say this is going to be a pretty good day!

Its 11:30 am right now, the clock tells me. The sounds it makes, I know that it's mocking me.

_Tick Tock_

I'm bored.

_Tick Tock_

I'm very bored.

_Tick Tock Tick Tock_

Can someone die from boredom?

_Tick Tock Tick Tock Tick Tock_

...Come onnnnnnn, I need this meeting to be over! I find myself sitting across from Nick Mateo, the president of Spin City Records, talking about my up and coming Debut Album. We're hoping for a Christmas release. Usually, this kind of thing would excite me, if I hadn't heard it 20000000000 times before.

"I don't want to rush things, Drake. I want you to become a little more known before we release any albums."

Duh? I still need at least 5 more songs, if not more, for the album anyway, so aiming for something before a Christmas release would only stress me out, equalling crappy music. See my thinking process?

"I understand and agree completely, Nick." When I first started at Spin City records, Nick had told me, one on one, that he grew up in a small town in Kentucky. He worked in a mill with the rest of his family, trying to obtain enough money to get himself into a decent school. Today, he was the president of Spin City Records. The problem? He was the president of one of the biggest music companies in America. Everyone who talked to him was asking him for something.

He told me that he missed being an unknown. Worse yet, he missed the mill and his small town, the last place where he felt like a true human being.

"_I'm no longer Nick Mateo, Jerry and Betty's boy. So, you see Drake, this might sound weird, but could you not see me as the President? Could you just see me and talk to me as if I were a normal human being?" _He said.

I had laughed and slapped him on the arm in my boyish yet charming manner. "_I think I could do that, Nick."_

I knew that he was happy. He had finally told someone something personal, and they listened. I could totally relate to that.

We've been friends ever since, even going so far as to go bowling together and having the odd, occasional lunch. I've even had dinner at his house, but that was for an after party…. So it doesn't really count.

"I have lined up some more gigs, a couple being in Los Angeles, for you next month. I know that you're a senior and that you're graduating, but I just think the sooner you become known, the sooner you're stuff sells."

"That's awesome Nick, how many gigs do you have lined up for me?" I ask. Now this meeting is getting kind of interesting.

"You have 16 gigs next month to attend to. Yes, it is a lot, but remember the main goal. Get you to become more known. So 5 of the gigs, like I said before, are in Los Angeles. But, they are all during the same 4 day period, so you won't be needing to drive back and forth every couple of days."

Nick looks around the room, looking at the clock on the wall.

"The last thing I want to talk to you about, Drake, is that, well, I understand that you're bit of a womanizer." He says this cautiously.

Hah, used to be. Not anymore, mistro.

"I guess I kind of am. I mean I like girls, y'know? But I would never make her go farther then what's she's willing to go, if that's what you're worried about." I answer honestly.

"That's good to hear, Drake, but that is not my concern. Lately, some of my staff has been spotting you with a guy. And it's always the same guy. A guy who is not Josh. Some even said that they saw him….. kissing you, so I'm just wondering..." He looks at me, really hoping that he doesn't have to finish that sentence.

Shit. Fuck. I have to reveal the secret now, don't I?

"I don't think I'm gay, Nick. I still find myself looking at girls, but, I, umm... I am in a relationship with someone who is not of the female gender..." Please don't fire me. Please don't fire me. Please don't fire me.

"That all I needed to hear." He states with a smile. "Besides, that will probably be good for appearances. It shows that your open to everything, not judgemental, and gay singer's Cd's sell, usually, 0.5 % more than your average singer. Trust me, that adds up in the end." He says with a smile. Nick is probably the most gentle man on earth. I can't see him hurting a fly. And he is always so calm.

How does he do it?

…. Wait... What? Gay singers sell more? Would that would mean that I would have to.. like..._ come out? Of the closet?_ But, girls! I still like girls! What if I broke up with Kayle? Does that mean I can only hook up with guys? _Onllyyy_ guys? I repress the oncoming shudder at that thought….. Oh! Right! And my family! They don't know yet! It's a secret, I say, a secret! No one can know yet! Yet!

"Well, Drake, that's all I needed to talk to you about today, I know you have plans so you're free to go."

He says getting up and going to the door, obviously missing my paralyzed, wide eyed expression.

"By the way-" Nick stops just before exiting. He turns back around and faces me. "Angie, my secretary, gave me the last few songs that you wrote and handed in the other day."

I nod, acknowledging that I know what he's talking about. I am not sure where he is going with this though. He could say that they sucked, and that I need to write more. Or he could say that he liked them. I really hope it's the latter.

"I, you..well… They felt so raw. So real. I enjoyed them very much. You are a very talented young man, and I am happy to say that you work for Spin City Records."

I can feel stomach doing summersaults. Oh. My. God. I...wow!

"Nick, you have no idea how much that means to me! I real-"

Nick cuts me off mid sentence. "I thought that it would. I especially liked that one song, oh what was it called? It was a different genre, it wasn't your normal rock. It was that Jazz song you wrote. It reminded me of this old song from the 1930's, 'Puttin' On the Ritz'? That was my dad's favourite. I remember he would come home every day after work, grab a glass of Brandy, sit down and just listen to that record again and again. When I was a kid, I hated it. But now, I find myself doing the exact same thing each night. Only with an IPod and not a record." He's chuckling softly at the memory that he just shared with me. I know that he is no longer here, with me at Spin City Records. He is back at the mill as a boy, with his family and friends. He's probably laughing.

"Hey Nick," I begin, slowly. I don't want him to come back to reality before he's ready. Everyone needs an escape every once in a while.

"Yes, Drake?" He says, voice distant.

"You're going up to your old town in Kentucky this weekend, correct?"

He nods his head slightly.

"Could you do something for me?"

He nods again.

"When you visit your Mom and Dad, could you get them flowers for me?"

He looks to me with confusion and sadness, etched together on his face.

"Why do you want to get them flowers? They won't be able to hold them."

"No" I reply. "But it's the thought that counts, right? They may not be able to hold them physically, but maybe they'll be able to see them." I say this as gently as possible, a small smile tugging at my lips.

He looks at me in understanding.

"Ya, I'll do that Drake. They have a floral store near the cemetery. What kind of flowers do you want to get them?"

I stop and think for a moment before replying. "Tulip. A Yellow Tulip."

I can hear Nick take a gulp of air, his voice wavering. "Why a Yellow Tulip?"

"Because, from what I hear, every year around March 28th, you put a Yellow Tulip in front of that picture of your parents on your shelf. I noticed it this year." I saying pointing to the Tulip, that was placed neatly on his shelf.

He shakes his head at me, smiling, as if he was shocked that someone was really paying attention to him, personally.

"Thanks for noticing, Drake."

"No problem."

I walk out the door, handing Nick 25$ to pay for the Tulip on my way out. It's a bit much, but maybe he'll get a bouquet? If not, I expect change.

"See you next Friday, Nick."

"Have fun, Drake... And you better be careful!"

* * *

><p>I meet Kayle outside of the Spin City Records building. He's leaning against his blue 1996 Honda, a smoke in his mouth.<p>

"Dude, I am so sorry that I'm late!" I say when I get to him.

"Don't worry about it. The way I see it is that you **need **to be home by Tuesday night. The later we leave today, the less time I actually have to spend with the old man and step mom."

"Ohhh..."

"Come on, might as well just get it over with." We don't touch each other because we're at my work place. I know he's itching to touch my skin, to feel some sort of comfort before we take off.

"Ya, let's get going." I smack his arm, letting my palm slide against it a little longer than necessary.

"Thanks Drake."

"No Problem."

* * *

><p>It's takes us two days to arrive in Spokane, Washington, where Kayle's Dad lives with his step mom. We pull up, late morning into a large neighbourhood.<p>

"What's the address?" Kayle asks me, concentrating on the road.

"5872." I reply, looking at a small ripped piece of white paper, a number written messily with pen.

"They got kicked out of the old house a few years ago. I used to live downtown, near the Riverside Park."

"Riverside Park?"

"You know, the park with the giant Radio Flyer Wagon? The one you were just ogling over?" He says with a snort, making me laugh as well. God knows that we'll probably be needing that laugh for what's about to come.

From what I heard from Kayle, his father is a Bastard. With a capital B. When we left, I asked if I should be prepared for anything. What were his father and step mother like?

Kayle had replied with a short statement. "_My father is a Bastard. With a capital B. That's all you need to know."_

We haven't talked about his family since.

Kayle slows the car down as well pull up next to a rancher- a one story house that looks run down and not looked after at all. To prove my point, a shingle falls from the roof and onto the ground.

A white, rusted truck is parked in the open garage. The small lawn looks to be just mowed. It's the only part that looks to be clean and cut. From behind the one story house, smoke is rising. Kayle said that his step mom was stressing out about food, so his Dad said he'd take care of lunch.

Apparently when his Dad is taking care of lunch, I should expect a burnt hot dog with mouldy Cheese Wiz. Apparently, I should also be ready for the numerous amounts of times his Dad will ask if I want a beer. He told me this last week when we were packing for the trip.

Kayle, who is looking at the house with a tinge of disgust, sighs loudly. "We're here."

It's not a very nice day. It's cloudy and looks like it's about to rain. The weather matches our feelings at the moment. Dark and gloomy.

Kayle pulls up the small drive way, and we exit the car, Kayle slamming his door loudly.

The Front Entrance door opens excitedly. A short, skinny woman appears on the door step.

She has shoulder length, wavy blond hair, that is messily pulled up in a half pony. She's wearing a white button up blouse that is too large for her. Her flowing brown skirt, stopping just past her knees. An apron tied around her too-thin frame. A glass in one hand and a purple cloth in the other. There are 2 bruises on her face to match the purple of the cloth.

"Hi, Carol." Kayle says, pulling her into a tight hug.

"Kayle," She looks as if she's about to cry, a hand holding tightly to his shoulder.

"I'm so happy you came, even if it's for a couple hours." She whispers sadly to him.

She wipes her eyelid with the hand that is holding the cloth, before looking towards me.

She attempts a smile, but the bruises scattered on her face prevent her from doing so.

"You must be Drake. Kayle has said so much about you." She looks at both of us at the same time. A pained look on her face. She notices that we notice, so she tries to shake it off.

"Oh well, don't just stand there! Come in, come in! We only have a couple of hours, and I baked a cake!"

The faint smell of dried blood, sweat and cake linger in the air as we enter the small house. Inside, it looks like it hasn't been renovated since the year 1977. The couch is wrapped in plastic and the floor is carpeted with a thick polyester rug. The rest of the furniture and wallpaper suggest the 1970's casual life style as well.

Carol drags us into the kitchen and presents us with a small vanilla cake. There is no frosting on it, just the name 'Kayle' written with purple icing.

She looks at the cake as if she has failed us with it.

"I couldn't afford a cake from any bakery in town, they were all too exquisite." She begins to explain, hiding her face with her hair. " So last week, I took the truck down for a late night spin, and wound up at the Wal-Mart in Colville. I bought the mix there. I wasn't sure if it would turn out, with how the oven's been running lately, but I tasted it, and it's edible! Just try to ignore the burnt rim on the bottom."

Kayle takes the cake from Carol, reading in between the lines of her explanation. "This is perfect, Carol. You went through too much trouble. Don't be upset by it, you did the best job you could under the circumstances. I'm sure if you had a working oven and some more icing, this cake would look exactly like that one you made me for my 5th birthday, remember? The one with the flowers and soccer ball that you made all by yourself? This may not be that cake, but I especially like how you wrote the K and Y in Kayle."

Carol takes a seat in a wooden chair in the corner, exhausted. Her hand tiredly rubs her eyes.

Kayle turns to me. "Well, I'm kind of hungry, and it is my birthday, so why don't we cut up this bad boy and ravage it until the plate is licked clean!"

"Kayle- you can't eat dessert first. That would be rude. Have you lost your manners living in San Diego by yourself? Maybe you should move back here and where I can whip ya back into shape." I see Carol flinch from the voice standing right behind her. She instantly stands.

A man hovers over Carol's small stature. He looks exactly like an older version of Kayle. Except a little shorter, balder, and 100x fatter.

"How are the hotdogs doing?" She asks fearfully.

"Fine." He snaps at her. He raises his hands to her shoulders and begins to massage them, and none to gently. Her face contorts in pain.

"Well, if it isn't my now 20 year old, pathetic excuse for a son-" The man grits his teeth at us "And his faggy fuck buddy, too."

"Hello to you too, Bastard" Kayle retorts.

His father sneers. "Bitch"

"Douche bag."

"Retard"

"Whore"

"Fag"

I cringe.

Kayle lips purse together in irritation at the last comment made. "Deadbeat alcoholic." Kayle says solemnly.

A grin appears on Kayle's Dads face, and he sways up to Kayle happily, giving him a hug. "Now that's my son!" He moves back and pats Kayle on the back.

"And you must be the fuck buddy," I can taste the alcohol radiating off his body as he turns to me. His hand is held out for me to shake, so I oblige and take it. His grip is so tight, I'm sure he's breaking my bones.

"I'm Bryan."

* * *

><p>We're sitting outside in the backyard, which is quite like the front. It's not looked after at all. The grass is overgrown and turning brown. The fence is falling apart and moss surrounds it's edges. All together, it looks haunted and baron.<p>

In my lap is a paper plate that holds a burnt to the crisp hot dog. I'm trying to eat it, but the burnt flakes attaching themselves to my tongue are making me gag.

"So, how's life treating my 20 year old son?" Bryan slurs. In his hand is his 5th beer since we have arrived. God knows how many he's had before we got here.

Kayle stares at his father, repulsed. "Great, now. I'm still working at CA Technologies. Uncle Dave said that I'm on the top of the list for the position at Nasdaq."

"Nasdaq, eh? So, you're going to be making a lot of money, is that it?"

Kayle nods his head.

"Nasdaq. That's one fuckin' important job. Stock Markets…."

"Yes, it is an important job. A lot of pressure."

"And why couldn't you stay here, again? Working at the mill, like your Old Man?"

"The dear thought repulses me as well as furnishes my nightmares."

Bryan throws himself from his seat in drunken rage. "So, you think you're better than me now, is that it? You come in here, all high and mighty, talking with big words in your Armani Jacket. But deep down I know that you're still just a weak, cowardly kid who's crying in the corner."

Kayle just laughs manically. "I don't see myself as the coward here, Bryan. I see you as the coward. Hitting others to make yourself feel like the man that you never were."

Carol lowers herself in her seat, obviously in distress. Why do I have a feeling that this conversation will just be taken out on her later? I can see her shaking. "Bryan, let's just-" She starts, quivering.

"Shut up, Bitch!" Bryan yells at her, swinging his arm towards her face. Kayle is at her side in an instance and grabs his wrist before it has a chance to make contact with skin.

"You don't talk to her like that." Kayle whispers, fuming.

This is my chance to step in. I get up and take Carol's hand, gently picking her up from her chair. She flinches at my touch, but I try to ignore it.

"Let's go inside. Do you have any pictures of Kayle from when he was a kid? I'd love to see them!" I ask loudly.

She understands what I'm really saying. "_I'm getting you out of here now, before it gets worse_."

She nods, and I drag her into the house. Kayle and Bryan are still shouting at each other in fury.

We reach the kitchen and she lets herself fall against the counter. Worry engraved on her face.

I don't really know what to do at this moment. If I was her, I would want my attention taken off of what was happening outside, but that's just me, and that's just because I really do want my attention taken off of what's happening outside. I look towards the rusting sink and see a small object inside of it. _That's it!_

I point towards the empty plate. "The cake was really good."

She looks up at me like I had just said the strangest thing in the world. Considering the situation, it probably was.

Screaming could be heard in the background. "FUCK YOU!"

"FUCK ME? YOU LITTLE PRICK!"

"What Brand was it?" I ask, trying to continue.

"I-it was Duncan Hines, I think."

"Ahh, Duncan Hines. They make good cake mixes."

Some more screaming can be heard in the background, along with a crashing sound.

"S-so you said that you wanted to see pictures of Kayle from when he was a boy?"

"I HATE YOU! YOU RUINED MY LIFE-"

I nod at Carols question.

"YOU RUINED CAROL'S LIFE-"

Carol begins shaking at the mention of her name. "…W-well, I have some in the bedroom,"

"DONT YOU DARE BRING MY WIFE INTO THIS! YOU STUPID SON OVA BITCH!"

"I'll just go grab the them." With that, she unsteadily walks off to her bedroom, shutting the door softly.

Without thinking, I run outside towards the two screaming men. The scene in front of me reminds me of two Lion's fighting for the chance to become an Alpha Male on the Science Channel.

Kayle's father raises a fist.

"Go ahead, hit me. You've never stopped before." Kayle dares.

Bryan just smiles. "You asked for it, kid."

I don't really know what happened. It's like my body started moving without my brains input. But, I begin to run towards Kayle as if my life depended on it. I leap off the ground, grabbing Kayle's waist, and drag us both towards the rough terrain. Bryan's fist makes contact with my hip bone on the way down.

I hear him hiss in pain, holding onto his palm, face contorting in agony. '_You got what you deserved.'_ I think.

I'm up in an instance, grabbing Kayle, who is lying in a daze. "Come on, Kayle. Carol's going to show us some pictures of you from when you were little. She's waiting in her bedroom."

I grab Kayle's jacket and lift him rather violently. He is in a trance like state, so I have to hold up all of his body's weight as I try to drag us towards the house.

I stop before thinking, and turn to Bryan. He is panting and looking dishevelled at what just took place. It's almost like he was regretting it.

"Thanks for the Hot Dog, Bryan. I appreciated it."

I don't know why I said it. But it makes Bryan look at me, apology written in his eyes.

* * *

><p>Carol, Kayle and I all sit on Carol's bed. Carol is in the middle, moving her hands along the album, turning the pages after she's done explaining the pictures to us.<p>

"Oh!" Carol says, laughing. "And this one is from the day Kayle found out where I hid all of my makeup and lingerie. He thought the lip stick was for your eyes, and that my _expensive_ purple eye liner was for your lips. I remember coming into my room, seeing this little boy jumping up and down excitedly. "_Now I look like Mommy and Cawol, too!"_ She mocks in a high pitched voice.

Carol turns the page again, and Kayle gasps. "Hey Carol, that's the cake. That's the cake you made for me on my 5th birthday!"

The picture was taken in a park, on a sunny day. A young Kayle is looking at the camera, smiling widely with his missing two front teeth missing, eyes squinted. Carol's hand are around his waist. Her nose is against his cheek in a playful manner. She's looking at him like he is her whole world. You can't see the cake, but you can tell that it was exquisite. Blue, purple, yellow, and pink icing outline the sides of the it. Green roses made of what looks to be cream cheese, is placed on the rim's. Just the outline of the cake looks like it took hours to make, I wish I could see the top.

"I remember that it was marble with a custard in the middle. You were going to school at this point to become a Cake Decorator, weren't you?" Kayle asked.

"Ya, I was." She replies softly. " Actually I was the top of my class, but I could never find a job around here. At the time, all the positions were filled."

I can tell that she's lying, but none of us bring it up. I shift my position, my hand holding onto my hip, trying to keep it from stinging. It's not really working out well.

"I'm just going to go to the bathroom, excuse me for a minute." I say, getting up from the bed.

When I reach the bathroom, I pull up my shirt up and my pants down slightly, looking at the forming bruise on my hip. I lift my index finger to it, pressing against it gently. I hiss at the pain, nausea taking over as I reach towards the sink, turning the faucet to cold.

I put my hands underneath the water and throw it to my face.

_You can handle this, Drake. You can handle this._

Taking a deep breath of air, I rise in confidence, ignoring the pain. I have to be strong.

I exit the bathroom and start to walk back towards the bedroom when a hand places itself on my arm, throwing me against the wall.

In a daze, I feel my knees begin to collapse underneath me, but a body presses itself against mine, holding me up.

"You think you can get away with what happened earlier? Coming in between me and my son like that? What right do you have?" He spits out, connecting a fist to my face as he speaks.

I groan as my body fills with more pain.

"I bet you were proud of yourself, weren't you? When you saved Kayle?" He grabs my back and slams me once again into the wall, this time my head makes contact as well.

"Well, let me tell ya something buddy" He whispers.

"There were plenty of times when that boy went without a saviour." With a flick of his wrist, he tears off my belt buckle, throwing his hand into my jeans.

He puts his hand onto my mouth, just before I try to scream for help.

"Scream boy, and that little face of yours will no longer be pretty, you can take my word on that." I feel his hand tugging at my briefs, playfully.

In one swift move, he shoves his hand down my briefs and onto my naked crotch, grabbing my dick as if were a stress ball. He doesn't move his hand, just squeezes it tightly.

I try to escape, try to move away, try to scream, but all my attempts to get away just earn me a rough slap on the face.

"Hmmmm, I guess you're not the dominant one in the relationship, are you?" He asks in a mocking tone.

"Don't worry, though. You're big, just not as big as Kayle. But that boy has always had a whale like stature."

What? As big? …..The Bastard has _touched_ Kayle?

I hear the bedroom door open, and see Kayle's silhouette walk out of it. "Drake, what's taking so long, I heard a noise?"

He turns to us, taking in the scene before him.

"Get away from him!" Kayle grabs his dad's arms and rips him away from my body. I just let myself slide down the wall, trying to catch my breath.

"You Son of a Bitch!" Kayle screams, punching Bryan straight on the nose, breaking it.

"You don't ever touch him. Don't ever fucking touch him!" Kayle grabs his father's arms and throws him to the carpeted ground, jumping on top of him instantly.

"How-" Kayle lifts his fist and slams it onto his father's face.

"Fucking-" He repeats the move again.

"Dare" another punch.

"You!" another hit.

Bryan's eyes close as he loses consciousness, an empty bottle of whiskey falling out of his hands. But it doesn't stop Kayle. He just continues his attack.

Kayle screams while punching, slapping and yanking at anything of his father's that he can, "I hate you!" Tears begin to fall down his face.

"I hate you!" His voice cracks, and his knuckles begin to bleed.

"I hate you..." And Kayle breaks. He begins to sob loudly, not believing what he just did. He's grabbing chunks of his hair, whipping his head back and forth. "Why, why, why, why, why?" He asks broken.

I find my belt beside me and, with shaking hands, put it back on. I zip my pants back up and try to get up, but my legs collapse to the ground underneath my weight.

_You have to be strong, Drake._

So instead, I crawl over to Kayle.

I put my arms around his shaking form. His tears are soaking my shirt.

"Come on, Kayle. Let's go." He nods his head, and lifts himself from the bloody corpse on the ground.

He walks towards the door, sniffling. "Leave him. Then he'll understand what it feels like to wake up in pain." Kayle then exits the house, without even a second glance. At the end of the darkened hallway, Carol is standing there, looking like she's trying to become a part of the wall.

"He's right, leave him. The bastard deserves it."

I nod my head and lift my aching body, forcing my legs into an upward position. I'm forcing them to stand on their own without collapsing.

"It was nice meeting you Drake, say goodbye to Kayle for me."

"…..I'm sorry about this." I huff.

"Don't be."

"Listen, if you need anything, I know that Kayle will drop anything and everything to help you."

A groan can be heard, along with a twitching movement on the ground beside me.

Carol looks at me straight in the eye. This time, I see no fear, panic, or shaking. This time, I see nothing. She looks completely empty.

"You need to leave, Drake. Now." Her voice is on par with her eyes. Empty. Ridden of any emotion. She's disconnected herself from what's going to come after I leave.

The body is now on his hands and knees, blood dripping from his nose onto the rug, a loud scream escaping his body.

Taking Carol's advice, I run. I run out the door. I run towards the car. I dive in. I lock the door. All the while trying to block out the sounds of screams and glass breaking from inside.

I turn to look at the house one last time before we speed off. I see Carol in front of the window, waving to us, blood already spread on her face and palm. _Goodbye, _she's saying in her own way, before her husband sends her off her feet, colliding with the wall from the power of his fists.

* * *

><p>The two days me and Kayle spend driving back to San Diego are spent in silence. Neither of us can speak.<p>

But from time to time, when I find myself glancing towards Kayle, I can see the outline of a small smile spread on his face.

He's proud of himself.

* * *

><p>That was another, verrrryyyyy long chapter. I am so sorry... again.<p>

After I finished writing this chapter, I started freaking out because I fell in love with Carol. I was worried that I killed her. BUT I didn't kill her... atleast I don't think I did... Oh! and I live near Spokane, Washington, and there really is a giant Radio Flyer Wagon (I'm not sure if they tore it down though) at a park. It is/was awesome! And Colville is also like a 2 hour drive from Spokane, so Carol drove 2 hours one night... and ended up buying cake mix. I feel so bad for her!

Review! :) :) :)


	7. Chapter 6

Thanks everyone for the reviews! I appreciate them so much!

I'm surprised that this isn't my longest chapter :P I'm sorry in advance if this offends anyone in anyway. I'm also a little worried this may disappoint some viewers... I'm a nervous wreck about posting it.

Later in the Chapter - **Bold - **Voice in Drake's head (reappearance!). _Italics _- Drake's thoughts/responses to the voice in side his head. Normal - Things that are happening in the real world, and not in Drakes head. Hope this doesnt cause anyone confusion :P

Warning: ... heh... Forced Sex (I dont want to say Rape, but yahhh, Non-graphic, kind of implied Rape), Underage Drinking, Implied Drug Use, Language.

Disclaimer: I do not own Drake and Josh

* * *

><p>Chapter 6<p>

We arrived in San Diego around 5 o'clock Tuesday night. Kayle decided that he was finally hungry after two days of practically eating nothing. We stopped near an A&W where he got two Root Beer Floats, 4 Large Fries and 5 Papa Burgers. Hey, the kid could eat when he was hungry.

Now we're just driving back slowly to my house, and I see Kayle opening and closing his mouth, trying to form words. It takes him exactly 2 minutes and 43 seconds for that to happen.

"You know that Johnny lives in his parent's basement?"

What? That was not what I had not been expecting. I was expecting... Well, actually I don't know what I was expecting. Something about my family? His family? Josh? Carol? Johnny had definitely not been in that list of topic discussions that had arisen within my thick skull during the course of the 2 day trek. "Huh?" I ask, stating my confusion.

"Johnny is living in his Parent's basement while he's going to College." Kayle replies dully.

"Doesn't he do Bartending as a full-time job, though?" This isn't exactly my idea of the ideal conversation after what had happened. But, I guess that at this point, a conversation is better than no conversation.

"Ya, he takes night courses at the local college. He's double majoring in English. So, to save up enough money, he's living in his Parents basement, free of rent as long as he keeps it clean."

"Ahhh..." That is the only thing I can manage to squeak out in my confused state.

"Johnny's Parents aren't home tonight, and Johnny doesn't have any classes either."

Okay? I just- I, what? Did I miss something here? "Where are going with this, Kayle?" I say, sighing in exhaustion. I'm in no mood to decipher his riddles. Especially one that had to do with Johnny, someone who wasn't very important to me at the moment. If the riddle had been about Carol, Josh, Bryan, etc. then maybe I'd be in the mood for deciphering. But Johnny? Ehhh...

"Johnny's having a party tonight. There's going to be a lot of people at it. I wasn't going to go, but after everything that happened, I've decided that I need a drink... or 8. You in?" Ohhhhhh... I understand completely now!

Kayle asks me this just as we pull up to the street next to my house. The lights are all on, and I can see the living room through the window. Everyone is in there, including Mindy. They are laughing, smiling, being happy. Being a family. Josh just finished telling a joke and Walter and Megan begin to laugh out loud. Megan hold's onto her stomach, from what I guess is pain from laughing too much. Her curled hair falling from her shoulders to her chest. She's growing up… And Walter looks like he's about to spit out his drink. A glimpse of gratification crosses his eyes. He's proud to have a son like Josh.

My Mom is in the corner of the room, smiling widely. She almost spills her wine at something Mindy said. Mindy reaches for the glass just before it spills, saving the day. They both chuckle quietly when they look each other in the eye.

The scene. They are all so happy, without me even being there. Am I even needed in that house? It seems like lately, whenever I walk into a room, tension fills the air.

I can feel something breaking in my chest.

"Ya-" I begin, my tone harsh, forcing my head away from the sickening scene before me. "I'm in."

* * *

><p>Johnny lives in a frickin' mansion. No joke. The front yard is about the size of 5 2,500 square foot houses. And that's just the front yard. The house itself is even more than that.<p>

The basement itself has 5 bedrooms, a rec room, 6 bathrooms, a hot tub, a movie theatre, a kitchen, 3 different living rooms, and that's only half of it. The other half is off limits to us party goers. Apparently, I was born in the wrong family.

When Kayle and I drove up, almost 1 mile away from the house, there were cars parked along each side of the street. People were walking towards the place, 1 mile away from it. This must have been one heck of a party to be at!

I told Kayle that we should just park and walk, but Kayle just shook his head. He said that Johnny had a secret garage just for these occasions, so his real friends wouldn't have to walk.

Well, there was a secret garage, and we made it to the party at the perfect time. Everyone was just passed the '_just a little tipsy'_ to the full blown drunk stage. Everyone was dancing, not caring what anyone else thought. Everyone was seemingly happy.

As soon as we walked through the doors, Kayle brought me to a couch, sat me down, and said that he would be back in 2 minutes with drinks. That was 45 minutes ago. So, out of boredom, I begin walking around the basement. The walls are painted only neutral colours. There is expensive, newly furnished furniture everywhere, most of which are under the weight of people who are passed out from the alcohol consumption, or people who are having just _a little_ too much fun. Luckily, I turn a corner and now find myself in the kitchen, where the alcohol just happens to be. Johnny-boi is at the counter, bartending for fun.

"Ehhhhhhhhh, Drakeyyyy!" He slurs, seeing me slide up next to him. "What can I do for ya, bro'?"

"Mix me the strongest thing you've got"

"Ahhhhhahhh, you an' Kayle are the purrrrfect couple, both asking me for the same thing...An' nice looking black eye you got dere. Whatt? Someting not go well over at the in-laws?" he smirks, and points to my eye.

"Fuck off, Johnny."

Johnny mixes me 2 drinks that has more booze then chase and throws it towards me. I catch it, and immediately let the bitter liquid enter my stomach.

"Another, Johnny" I demand quickly.

Johnny slowly mixes me another drink and I inhale it all in one breath.

I am in need of the taste of alcohol. The feeling of being light-head. Dizzy. Happy. By this point, all those things were no longer wants, but needs. I need the alcohol to enter my system. Now.

"You miggght wanna take it easy Drakeyyy, Kayle's alreadys sloshed outta is' mind. An' I think that dere should be at least.. umm... one... ummm... heathlshy person in ur' relationship tonight." The slur in his voice is becoming worse, thickening his accent to the point where I can barely understand him.

Then I realize what he just said. Concern begins to cloud my mind along with the alcohol. "Where is Kayle?" I'm trying really hard to hide my worry, but when the shaking in my voice reaches my ears, I realize that I'm not doing a great job.

Johnny begins to laugh, his shoulders shaking like I have just said the funniest thing in the world. He takes a swing of his own 40 of Smirnoff, which is close to being finished. Now I can understand why he was laughing.

Angered, I grab his stupid shaking shoulders and force him to look at me. "Where is Kayle, Johnny?"

"Ehhehhehehhh, I tink, I tink he's ouss-ide?"

I'm out the door in seconds, looking for Kayle. There are people everywhere. People crying. People laughing. People talking. People making out. People doing drugs. People alone. People together. People are everywhere! And it's pissing me off.

I run to the front yard, where I'm relieved to see Kayle's silhouette, bent over and talking to a bush right beside me.

"…Kayle?" Truthfully, I'm a little worried about talking to Kayle. Isn't talking to a bush, like, one step away from being mentally insane?

"Drrrakkkkkeeyyyyy! I've been looking eeerry' where for ya, mannn!" He yells happily. He lifts himself up from his bent position and throws his arms around me in a tight hug. The mix of alcohol and marijuana fills my nose.

"Kayle... are you high?" I have to ask. Maybe he was just hanging around people who were smoking pot? And maybe there's a chance that he wasn't doing it himself? Maybe?

Kayle looks at me in the eye. His pupils are small and the white around the pupil is a nice shade of red. My hope for him not smoking pot was just washed down the toilet.

His head begins to nod... and then shake... and then nod... and then shake again. "Yes... Neooooo, no, I means Yeshhh, No... Yaaaaaaaaa" His begins laughing quietly. I see his green eyes turn from their normal gentle to a hideous shade of dark as he glances at my body. He brings his lips down to mine and forces me into a brutalizing kiss. His tongue, which tastes like a mixture of his smell, only 10x worse, vigorously enters my mouth. His arms wrap themselves around my waist as I try to get away. I refuse to kiss back. My feet are scrambling underneath his and my arms are flailing, looking for an escape. Finally, I move my hands to his chest, pushing him away, although that does nothing as well.

"Mmmmph!" I groan into his mouth, showing him my distaste for the situation. Maybe if I speak... or attempt to speak, he'll notice.

It works. Kayle finally brings his lips away from mine, letting go of me completely. There is infuriation written on his face. "Whaa? Do you hate me neow, too?"

"N-no Kayle,-" I begin, trying to wipe the taste off of my tongue with my shirt. "It's just that you're really drunk, and I... I think that maybe we should get you inside."

Trying to explain to a drunk person why you don't want to make out with them is the hardest thing in the world. Trust me, I've been in both positions several times before.

"Oshayyy!" Kayle lets me lead him back into the house. He stumbles every step of the way, and almost falls over completely at the door frame.

"Come on, Kayle, I have you." I say gently as possible. Is this how Josh felt all the times I came home drunk? Wow, no wonder he's trying to stay away from me, I would want to too if I had to deal with this all the time.

"Heyy! Johnny!" I cry when I see Johnny, who's still in the corner of the kitchen. He's no longer mixing drinks, but is now close to being passed out on the floor.

I walk over to his body, and slap him on the face, forcing him to look at me once again. He smiles widely by the look of my distraught face. "Dwaaaaakkkeyyyyy! An- An- An Kaayle, tooo! Teehhhee, wowww, Imm Dwunk. Like, H-core dwunk"

_Do not roll your eyes, Drake. Do not roll your eyes from irritation._

Trying really hard to suppress my eye roll, I can feel my left eye give a little twitch. Johnny howls at this, that is, until I slap him again.

"Johnny! Listen to me, I need to find a place for Kayle to lie down. Where can I do that?" I scream the last part into his ears.

"Ohhhhhh, welllsss, I tink mosh of the bedwooms are full. You can use my pawents room! Up-upstairs, behine door wish yello tape! ... ann turrnnnn left!"

I decide not to thank him in his drunken state. That'd be too much work and explaining. So instead, I just find the door that has yellow tape all over it. "**Do No Enter**" it says in bold letters. Well, I never really have been one to follow rules, and Johnny said it was alright... I think? I remove the tape and open the door, which leads to a large set of stairs.

Kayle looks up from behind me.

"Heyyyyy, we gunna go upshtairss Drakeeee?"

"Yes, Kayle, we are going to go upstairs." Sighing, I begin my next goal. Getting Kayle up the stairs to Johnny's parents room. Oh, dear god, help me now...

* * *

><p>It takes me exactly half an hour to get Kayle up to Johnny's parents room. It was really easy to find, given the fact that Kayle has been here before and told me which direction to turn to. Kayle puked 3 times when we entered the room, and now refuses to pass out. He has stopped slurring, but he is still severely wasted.<p>

"So, Drake?" He says from the bathroom floor.

"Ya, Kayle?" I'm bored, and trying to read some naughty magazine that I found under the extremely large bed. Said extremely large bed is what I am currently laying on. It's soft and squishy. I think it's a water bed. It's Awesome.

"Why didn't you want to kiss me back there?"

Inhale. Exhale. Talk.

"I dunno, man. I, just, the taste wasn't that good." I lie.

"Ohhh..." Kayle gets up and closes the door of the bathroom. Another trip to the toilet, I'm guessing. But then, why did he close the door?

It takes Kayle 2 minutes and 43 seconds to finally open the door again. "Well, my breath is all fresh now, how about that kiss?" He smiles maliciously.

"No, Kayle. Not tonight, alright? I'm just kind of tired, and my parents are probably wondering when I'm going to be home" I reply. I really am in no mood for a fun time tonight. It must be the alcohol.

"Check your phone" demands Kayle. "Check your phone to see if you have any messages from your parents. If you don't, then they aren't that worried."

I nod in understanding and put my hand into my jean pocket, grabbing my phone. Opening it, I see that there are only 3 text messages. Two of the Three messages are from girls asking to hang-out, and the last one is from Trevor. All are less than 7 words long.

"No message from your parents, I take it?" Kayle wants to laugh at this, I know he does, but for some reason he's holding it back.

"... No" I say. They don't care. It's late on a Tuesday night. Even worse, it's late on the Tuesday night that I'm supposed to be arriving home. Shouldn't they have at least texted me by now?

"Well then, they obviously don't care. Stay here!" Kayle jumps onto the bed, his large body hovers over mine. "Let's continue what I tried to start 45 minutes ago."

"Firstly, it's been 39 minutes, not 45, and secondly, I just don't feel like doing anything like that right now." This is so strange. Me, Drake Parker, is saying 'No' to a make-out sesh. The universe has officially turned up-side down.

"Why not?" His voice is low, and on the verge of wanting to yell out in anger.

"I just don't want to alright?" I say to him in a harsh tone.

"You kissed that one 'lean' boy in grade 9. You kissed a transvestite from New York. You even kissed your own step-brother. So, if you can kiss all those guys randomly, why can't you kiss me now?"

"B-because… I don't know. I just kissed those guys, nothing more, and I still regret it! Kayle, if you're going to be like this, I'm leaving."

"…. You fucked 'Bob'… and not only that, you fucked him 4 times." He says solemnly.

"Bob happened a year ago, and that was a completely different situation." I explain, trying to get up off the bed, but Kayle grabs me, and pins me against the wall.

"What's the difference between me and 'Bob'? Did you love 'Bob' more then you love me?" He hisses, his nails digging into my skin.

"No!" I yell in fear. " Bob meant nothing! I hated Bob, but that was over a year ago! Wh-why does that even matter?" I try to suppress the scream that wants to escape my throat. God, his nails are fucking painful. I just know that that's my blood beginning to tumble down my shoulder blade.

"Because you fucked him! And you've fucked every girl in San Diego! And yet, you refuse to fuck me, Kayle, your boyfriend of almost 2 months, practically 3!"

He punches me in the eye in the same place his Dad had hit me before. The force of it sends my body from the wall and onto the mattress beneath us. My head lands awkwardly in the sheet, my stomach is laying on its front on the soft duvet. I try to turn around, but Kayle straddle's my hips, punching me again. I try cowering away from the punches, but Kayle just continues with his attack.

"That's because they never meant anything to me!" I scream, pleading, my head being pushed more into the sheets. "Y-you do though! You mean something to me, Kayle! I wanted our first time to mean something!" My muffled voice stops Kayle in his tracks.

"... I mean something to you?" I notice that his fist is still in the air, waiting to make another punch.

"Y-yes" I sound so pathetic, whimpering like this. Crying like this. Begging like this.

"Are you being honest? do I Actually mean something to you?"

"Y-yes, you do." I manage to say, whimpering again. God, I'm so weak.

"Will you come to New York with me when I transfer to Nasdaq?"

"I- yes, I'll come to New York with you! I want to be with you!" I scream. I wish we were downstairs. Even with the music and all the drunk people, someone would have heard me by now.

"Do you promise to never leave me? To stay by my side?"

"I do!" Even in my panicked state, I can't help but almost giggle, it sounds like a fucking marriage for Christ's sakes.

"Just please don't do this!" I yell.

I hear Kayle take a deep breath as he ignores my last plead. "...Do you love me?"

I can feel my clenched jaw dropping into a stern frown...I do, I do love him. I have for a long time now. I was hoping to say it for the first time under better circumstances, but now seems to be as good as ever.

Inhale. Exhale. Speak.

"Yes, I love you, Kayle." Tears are now escaping my eyelids, and Kayle seems to be pleased by this response. He lowers his body until he is fully on top of mine. His head only inches away from my ear. His hot breath wisps over it.

"And Drake, do you know what two people do when they love each other?"

I shake my head, un-sure of how to respond.

"They make love."

I can feel his hands running all over my body, his teeth tugging at my ear.

"Kayle, please, stop! I don't want to do this yet!" I'm trying to escape, but the weight of his body over mine is keeping me in place. "I'm not ready yet!" I grab onto the bed covers and try to slide out. My attempts aren't working. My arms begin to flail, trying to grab anything that I could use to hit Kayle, or even pull myself out from under him.

I can now understand what Josh means when he said that he feels claustrophobic in small areas.

"Yess," Kayle says on top of me. "Squirm, scream. I know you want this."

His hands are on my waist, unbuckling the leather belt that is clinging to my jeans. I begin to kick and punch and scream at anything and everything.

Kayle is just laughing.

"Yes! Scream! Cry some more. I don't know why you're trying so hard, pretending like you don't want it."

He grabs my wrists and pull them over my head, his other hand pulling off the belt that he was just currently working on.

"I know you do. Sluts like you always want it."

"Kayle, Please..." More tears fall down my face, wetting the linen cloths beneath me. I can feel Kayle unzipping and pulling down my jeans.

"And since you're a slut, you want it. And since you said you love me, you want me. Unless you lied, but you didn't lie to me, did you, Drake? Because I'd really have to hurt you if you lied to me..." I can feel his knuckles cracking behind me.

"No, no, Kayle. I do! I do love you... That's the truth…"

In one powerful jerk, my briefs are at my knees.

I didn't even notice until this moment that his own pants weren't on.

"You know Drake? I didn't realize how good it felt to be in control of someone before. But now, I'm the dominant one. I'm the one in control. And it feels amazing." His hands are running up and down my shaking spine, ripping the skin with his nails.

" I can finally understand why my Dad did it, the sensation and power is just too good to give up." He whispers lustfully.

"Kayle- You're not your Dad, please... please, don't do this!"

"Shut up!" He puts a hand into my hair and yanks it. He laughs the pain it sends through my spine.

"Please..." I'm begging. Please don't let this happen. _Please._

"You don't know how long I've been waiting for this." he whispers.

"You're going to like what you get, slut."

Without lube, a condom, or even preparing me, he thrusts himself inside, tearing and ripping my insides apart.

A screams echoes in the room. I realize later that it was my own.

"Scream! Cry! Yes! God, you're so tight!"

I hold onto the linens, no longer trying to get away. Instead, I let myself collapse against soft mattress, succumbing to the pain.

* * *

><p>My back is against the wall. The wall that is painted a neutral colour. I watch the glow of a clock on the other side of the room. The red digital dots flickering on and off.<p>

On and off. On and off.

I can feel my body shaking slightly.

On and off. On and off.

I can feel Kayle in a fetal position, lying in my arms. His body shaking worse than mine by his sobs.

"I'm sorry!" He cries. "I'm so sorry!"

"I know." A sound seeps from my body.

"I didn't mean to!"

"I know." Another sound. My body.

On and off. On and off.

"You have to forgive me!"

"I do."

On and Off. On and Off.

"I'm sorry! You didn't want to, and then I forced- oh god, and you're screams. You cried. You begged me to stop, and I _got off_ on it. All of it. You were in pain, I should have stopped... I should have stopped! But it wasn't me! Just th- the thing with my dad, and the alcohol... and the drugs. It wasn't my fault!"

"I know."

On and off. On and off. I haven't blinked yet. That's a record. 2 minutes and 43 seconds without blinking. Would Josh be proud of me?

"You have to believe me, Drake! Please believe me!" His hands that are gripping onto my shirt, tighten their hold.

"I do."

"I love you, Drake. I love you. I love you more than anyone could know!" His sobs are continuing to wet my shirt.

"I know." He hasn't ever said those words to me yet... I can feel my heart squeeze slightly in my chest.

Kayle's body begins shaking even harder. More tears fall. More snot drips. The smell of fresh vomit wavers up to my nose. After it... we... had our first time, I was in shock. I tried to get up and go to the washroom, but I couldn't use my legs. Instead, I had to lean my head over the side. I shiver at the memory. The force of bile rising from my stomach. The feeling. The smell.

_Disgusting._

On and Off. On and Off. The light continues to blink even though my eyes still haven't.

"I love you, Drake. That's the truth. And I promise, I'll never hurt you again. Never, ever, ever! I'll never hurt you again! I promise!"

"I know."

On and Off. On and Off. Blink. Blink. Blink.

I begin to move my legs. I begin to walk. I begin to walk to the door.

"I'll see you tomorrow, Kayle."

I leave Kayle's body on the blood soaked bed.

Soaked. Blood. My blood. Liquid. Mine. Kayle's. Mixed. Bed. Kayle... Kayle?

Kayle. Crying. Begging. Holding onto his stomach.

"Why don't you love me? Why don't you love me back? Was I bad? I loved you... I love you... Why don't you love me?"

I know that he is no longer talking about me.

I glance at the clock just before I leave and think for a few seconds.

It took me 2 hours, 43 minutes and 00 seconds for my legs to be able to stand up and walk.

Kayle. First time. April 1st. Wednesday morning. 2:43 am.

I walk. Down the stairs. To the right. Thank unconscious Johnny. Out the door. Walk. Walk. Walk.

Run.

* * *

><p>Nothing bad happened in there. Nothing. Me and Kayle just had sex. Just sex. It was only painful because he didn't stretch me first. I mean, it was bound to happen eventually, the sex. This just means that our relationship is one step ahead a little earlier. That's all.<p>

**You're denying it.**

I am not denying anything. To deny something, there has to be something that happened first to deny. Nothing bad happened. At all. So there is nothing to even deny. See my logic?

I mean, it did hurt. And I did bleed. But only a bit. Nothing bad happened, really. Kayle was just in a different mind frame. He wasn't thinking correctly. I didn't want it to happen though.

Kayle, hurting me. Kayle, talking to me. Kayle, saying that I was his slut. Kayle... saying that it was nice when I cried for him. His tongue on my cheek, catching the falling moisture.

I shake my head, trying to throw the thoughts away. _Stop! Stop! Stop!_

**You make it sound like Kayle did something bad. But Kayle didn't do anything wrong.** The little voice in my head says me.

_I agree. _I answer back to it.

**Do you?**

…_. No..._

**What do you believe happened in there?**

_Me and Kayle had sex._

**Is that all? Is that why you feel the way you do?**

_Yes, that's all._

**Then why are you in pain?**

_Because I didn't want to do it tonight. _

Tears are falling down my face.

**But you did want to do it tonight.**

_No... I didn't..._

**But, Drake, this is a free country. A country where, if someone really doesn't want to do something, they don't have to do it. Isn't that true?**

_It is... _

I walk up to a house.

**Then what does that mean Drake?**

_It means that I wanted it._

I walk into the house.

**And if it means that you wanted it, Drake, and if that means that you're in pain now, whose fault is it?**

_Mine..._

I walk up the stairs of the house.

**And who isn't at fault here?**

_Kayle._

I enter a bedroom in the house.

**And why isn't Kayle at fault?**

_Because I wanted it and he gave me what I wanted…._

I walk across a bedroom in the house.

**And why did you want it?**

_Because I am a whore. A filthy, dirty, ugly whore…_

I step up a latter in a bedroom of the house.

**And who doesn't deserve such a filthy whore to call their boyfriend?**

_Kayle..._

I kneel on the ground, on a loft next to a bed in the house.

**So I ask again, Drake, what happened tonight in that bedroom?**

_Nothing bad, we just made love, like lovers do..._

I put my hand underneath the bed, grabbing a photo.

**You truly believe it now. **

I look at the photo.

**Good boy.**

I'm at my house. In my room. Kneeling next to my bed. I can feel hot liquid falling down my face, even though I don't think I'm crying.

The photo in my hands is one I haven't looked at for years. It's of me and my biological father. It's a sunny day, and I'm around 7 years old. Me and Dad had just won a 'Father-Son' game at a local festival. We were proud of our achievement, so we decided to have a picnic. Mom made us extra chocolaty brownies to celebrate. You can tell they were extra chocolaty because there was a large chocolate rim around mine and Dad's mouth. Me and my dad laughed at this when we looked at each other, medals dangling from our necks. My mom thought the laughing was a 'hallmark moment'. She took the picture.

We were celebrating. A picnic. With brownies. I notice my Dads eyes. Green. My Dad's eyes were green. Full of life. Green. Gentle.

We're at the park. _The park._

The park where me and Kayle first met.

_Kayle. Party. Dad. Green Eyes. Pain. Dead. Crash. New York. Slut. Pain. Blood. Kayle. Green Eyes. Gentle. Dad. Crash._

"SHUT UP!" I scream, letting go of the picture. I feel hands clenching themselves over my ears, trying to stop any noise from entering my mind.

There was no pain. I wanted it. It would have happened eventually. Eventually. In the future. We love each other.

He said he won't ever do it again.

Its fine.

He won't ever do it again.

"Drake? Is that you? Are you back already?"

My head whips around. The lights in my room are on. Why are they on? The hands leave my ears. They were my own.

Josh is staring at me wide eyed. Scared.

I'm breathing like I just saw a ghost; Haggard and un-even. I'm begging for breath to enter my system.

"Drake..." He starts walking towards me, like I'm some wild animal who might run away if he gets too close. Maybe if it were the other way around, I might walk up to Josh the same way as well. I hope it is never the other way around.

I can feel my face fall flat, as if nothing happened. Like I hadn't just screamed out loud, and that I was just tired. I rise to my feet.

"What, Josh? I'm just trying to grab my pyjamas. Sorry if I woke you." My voice is small and weak.

Josh rubs at his eyes tiredly.

"You sure, man? I heard whimpering, and then you screamed Bloody Mary. Are you trying to tell me that was all a dream?" He laughs at what he says.

I try to laugh, but my throat hurts to much to even attempt the task. When did my throat start hurting? Why is my throat hurting?

I turn back to my bed, grabbing some pyjamas that are wrinkled on top of the clean bed sheets. I can hear Josh gasp behind me.

"Drake... your legs. There's blood.… Are you bleeding?"

I can feel my heart stop.

…What?

I look down to my pants for the first time since I pulled them on. **Pulled them on**** over**** blood, and Kayle's semen-**

STOP!

Think about what Josh said. Josh. Talking. Right.

Josh is right. Blood has seeped its way through the jeans. It looks like I was mugged, and had 30 untreated cuts running up and down my legs .… There's a lot of blood.

I feel sick.

"I- Don't worry about it, man" I say, jumping down to the floor beneath my loft, trying to ignore the wave of nausea that flows through my body.

"I'm really tired, so I'm just going to go to the washroom and go to bed. We have to be up for school soon, anyways." I say all of this as I try to make my way to the door, but a hand lands on my shoulder, stopping me. I flinch at the contact.

"Drake, what happened?"

I turn to Josh. His eyes are so full of worry. For me.

"N-nothing happened, Josh." My chin is beginning to quiver.

"D-did Kayle do something to you? " I flinch again the sound of Kayle's name, forcing Josh to create crazy assumptions in his head.

"Kayle did something to you, didn't he?" Josh yells at me.

"N-no, Kayle didn't do anything that I didn't want him to do!" My lips won't stop quivering. Tears are beginning to make their ways to my eyes.

"Kayle… didn't do anything that you didn't want him to do?" Josh takes a deep breath before continuing. "Righhtt….. then why is there _blood_ crusted to your pant legs?" Josh asks me, hands on his hips. It's his accusing 'I-know-what-really-happened-so-you-might-as-well-spill' stance.

"There's blood because... because...-"

"Did he cut you?" I can tell by this point that Josh knows that it isn't a cut. He's just being hopeful. Optimistic. He's just being Josh.

My eyes shut tight at the next thing that's about to escapes my lips. "No ...Me and Kayle, we… had…uhh, ummm…"

**Say it, slut.**

".. sex…"

Josh visibly pales at what I say. His jaw drops, and he slouches down to the couch.

"I knew it" He's shaking his head in his hands. "I knew it. You and Kayle were in a relationship. I fucking knew it! ... Wait, unless…. Are you even in a relationship, or are you two just fuck buddies?"

I flinch again at his use of language.

Flinching. Why do I keep flinching? I never flinch.

"…. Relationship."

When he gains back his composure, Josh raises himself to his feet. It takes Josh 2 minutes and 43 seconds to complete this task after I utter the word relationship.

"…..And why didn't you tell me?" He demands, angrily.

He's angry. At me. Stop being mad at me, Josh. I can't handle it right now. It's weak, and it's pathetic. But it's true.

"...Because we haven't talked in a long time. I didn't think that you cared. I didn't think you'd want to know..." My voice begins to shake. I'm trying as hard as I can not to break down at the moment.

It's the truth, Josh. I'm telling you the truth. Please listen to me_._ My eyes drift down to the ground.

**Don't you dare cry! Don't you dare fucking cry.**

Inhale. Exhale. I look back up to Josh.

His hand is on his chin. He's thinking.

"You're right, we haven't talked in a while. So, I'll start now. I have a question for you."

I nod my head, trying to get away as quickly as possible.

"Did you want to have… uhhh... coitus with him?" I notice that he shudders at his own sentence.

Inhale. Exhale. Answer.

"Yes."

"Did you?"

"Yes. We're together. In a relationship. Of c-course I wanted to…."

"Because that seems like a lot of blood just for a first time that you were willing!" Josh snaps at me.

For the first time during this conversation, when I talk to Josh, my voice reaches a powerful tone. It's no longer weak and pathetic. I'm standing up for myself and Kayle. Why? Because Kayle hasn't done anything wrong here. If anything I was in the wrong by black mailing him into taking me to his parent's house. For taking me to the party. For allowing him to go off alone at the party for 45 minutes. The way I see it, if anything bad _did _happen, it would have been my fault. But nothing bad did happen.

"What do you want me to say, Josh? What are you accusing Kayle of this time? What?" I raise my hands in the air, anger rushing through my system.

"I've had sex with Mindy. We were each other's first time." He screams "She bled, but she did not bleed _that much._ There had to be force used to create that much blood! Did he use a condom? Lube? Did he even _fucking_ prepare you? Because from my end, " Josh smacks his hands together as he makes his points. "It doesn't look like it. And it sure as hell looks like you didn't want to."

_How can he tell? _

" Because you're shaking. Your lips are quivering along with your chin. You're flinching. You look like you're in pain…. I don't like seeing you like this. I don't like seeing anyone I care about like this…" Did I say that out loud? I must have.

Josh has gone quiet. He's being as gentle as possible now.

I'm feeling exposed. He can see the blood. All of it. My cuts and bruises. I don't like this. Stop looking at it. Stop looking at me.

"Don't back away from me, Drake, please….. I saw what he did to you in the kitchen that day. You tried to get away. H-he forced you back onto him. He's using you, and you don't even realize it. And now he's done this and you won't even acknowledge it? ….Oh yah, nice black eye, purple cheek and swollen lip. He give those to you as well? I wouldn't be surprised…" Josh suddenly stops, and gives a shaky sigh. He kept his tone quiet and calm during his small speech. I am amazed that he has such control.

He lays the palm of his hand sadly on his forehead. "Why are you with someone like that, Drake? You need to get away before _this" _He points to my jeans and my eye. "Happens again. It's already happened. That's one too many times. Drake, I, please. It's still early. Get away from him."

I just shake my head, 'No' being my silent reply.

"Oh, god. This is all my- You could have anyone. " His eyes land on mine. They're doleful and full of worry. "Why him?"

"...Because I love him" I say quietly, grabbing the doorknob.

"Drake, don't... Please! You need to get away fro-"

I slam the door at Josh's rising voice.

I run to the guest room. I change. I notice that there is no mirror in the room. I notice that I am thankful that there is no mirror in the room. I run downstairs. I run into the kitchen. I throw the jeans into the garbage. I run back upstairs. I jump into the bed. I try to sleep. I ignore the pain.

But I can't ignore the pain. Because there can't _be _pain. There is no pain.

Pain would mean that something bad happened. Nothing bad happened. Nothing bad happened at all...

* * *

><p>Chapter donnneee<p>

I am trying as hard as I can to not make Kayle a stereotypical bad guy. I'm trying as hard as I can not to make him a bad guy in general! I do see him as 'Good' (not necessarily in this chapter...), so yes, I am trying to throw his good side that was seen in the earlier chapters, later on in the story. I believe that he is just having issues dealing with his past. He isn't 'Evil'. Well, I don't see him as evil, anyway.

... But, I feel like I didn't handle this situation properly. (Then again, I just started High School again, and my Grades are already dropping, therefore my confidence is dropping as well. So, I am in the pessismistic mindframe. Nahh well, this happens every year in September. All will be good by October :p). If anyone has ever had to deal with Marital Rape (Not even necessarily 'Marital Rape' but forced sex in a loving (not married) relationship) I am soo sorry if I have offended you, I'm trying not to offend anyone.

Review :)


	8. Chapter 7

The September Flu, it never fails to visit me personally, goddamnit :( And somebody stole my Zen (ipod), I am going through major withdrawal!

And thank you everyone who has reviewed! I appreciate them so much! The last two chapters were most likely the most angsty of this story, until the ending at least... I think? But, sorry for the late update! I have been incredibly busy. This one really isn't that special, just kind of a filler. I wouldn't be expecting too much.

Disclaimer: I do not own Drake and Josh

* * *

><p>Chapter 7<p>

I wake up the next day, still in the guest bedroom. The bed is hard and firm, so I wake up with a sore neck. There's light, seeping through the closed window. It's peaceful.

I don't know how long I slept for, but I have to get up. I have to go to school. I've already missed so much, I'm a little worried that I won't graduate. And there is no way that I am repeating grade 12. No friggin' way.

I walk downstairs to find myself completely alone. No one is home. Maybe I just woke up a little too early? The clock in the kitchen tells me different.

10:00 am, on the dot. I over slept. But, everyone knew that I'd be home. Everyone knew that I was going to go to school.

Why didn't someone wake me?

I notice a flashing light to my left. It's the answering machine.

Walking up to it, I press play. The automated female voice begins.

"You have 2 new messages and 7 old messages. Saturday 6th, 12 am, Time and Day Not Set."

"… Uh, hey, Drake?" The voice, I can tell, belongs to a very tired Josh "I'm sorry about last night. But, I guess I'll talk to you about that later. And yes, we_ are_ going to talk about that later. But anyways, Mom and Dad left early this morning. Mom's close to getting that promotion-"

Promotion? Mom? What is Josh talking about. I didn't know anything about a promotion.

" -So that's why Mom had to go to a Meeting in Los Angeles. She was nervous, so Dad went with her. They won't be back until late tonight. Oh, and Megan is going over to Jeanie's tonight, too. We have the house to ourselves….. I won't invite Mindy over, I promise. By the way, I came into the guest bedroom this morning, but you wouldn't wake up. That's why you slept in…. ummm, oh. That's the bell. I have to go. See you after school, kay man? Please don't leave, okay? Bye."

I'm still confused about the promotion thing. I haven't seen my parents for almost 5 days. If they were to just pick up and leave this morning, wouldn't they have said goodbye? Josh did say that I couldn't wake up, so maybe I just didn't hear them? … The voice in my head tells me different.

"Saturday 6th, 12 am, Time and Day Not Set." The automated female voice tells me once again.

"Hey, this message is for Drake?" This time the voice belongs to Kayle. Along with the blinking light on the answering machine – _On and Off. On and Off - _ emotions are beginning to overwhelm me. I have to sit down.

"….. Hey, Drake. Listen, I just wanted to see how you were? We had a pretty crazy ride, didn't we?" A snort can be heard from the other end. He's laughing quietly. "Listen, I was just worried and uh….. you probably won't be the one answering messages, will you? Ha, of course not- Mr. Nichols and Mrs. Parker? If Drake doesn't get this message, could you get him to call me?. We were at an A&W just out of town, early this morning, and we had a run in with some thugs. They only took some money, but they beat us up a little bit too. Drake took the brunt of the beating."

A mugging, eh? That's going to be our story for the bruises? Smooth, Kayle. I like it. It's easy to remember.

"He's okay, but I'm just a little worried. He was too quiet on the car ride home. So could you get him to call me? It's Kayle. He'll know my numbe-" _Click._

"Message Deleted. You have No New Messages."

I hear myself give a shuddering breath. I'm trying to suppress the fear that's flowing through my body. Why am I scared? It was just Kayle's voice. It was just Kayle.

I get myself off the floor, the place where I had sat down just moments before. I begin to turn around when I notice a little red spot where I had previously been sitting.

_Blood._

I'm still bleeding.

I can feel my eyes widen. My heart stops along with my breath. I walk slowly backwards, staring at the spot. Maybe if I stare at it like this, it'll magically go away on its own.

Unfortunately, I know better.

I fly up the stairs, and spend the rest of my afternoon within the security of a hot shower. I left the curtain open slightly, just so I can see the mirror fog over. The hot water, brushing against my skin, is leaving little red spots. Small blisters. Is the water really that hot? It doesn't feel like it.

Bringing my knees up to my chest, I rock myself back and forth. Back and forth. It's soothing. Comforting.

Its security.

Security from knowing what's being cleaned from my legs and flowing down the drain.

Finally, I looks towards the drain, torturing myself.…..Huh, It's gone.

I look back up to the mirror.

It's no longer fogged over.

Huh.

* * *

><p>Saturday Morning. I refuse to sleep in my room with Josh. He's still accusing Kayle of doing something wrong. He didn't do anything wrong, duh.<p>

The other day, when Josh came home, he found me on the floor, scrubbing furiously at _the spot._ It was clean by then, and starting to wear the wood floor. He grabbed my hands, but that hadn't stopped me. I think I screamed 'No!' at him, but I can't remember. He was yelling at me, saying it was alright, it's just Josh, that everything was okay, but I just kept trying to scrub the dirt that pillaged the floor. It was disgusting, and it needed to be cleaned. Josh had let go of my wrists and grabbed my arms, determinedly throwing me on the couch. When I hit the couch, I began shaking. I said that it was only because I was cold, but Josh has a temperature gauge on his watch, he knew I was lying. I then said that I must be running a fever. Josh, again, hadn't believed me, but he let it slide.

He tried to ignore what he had seen, as he chucked the slightly pink-ish water down the sink. I found him glancing at me worriedly every couple of minutes, but that was the most of it. He had ordered a large pizza, and attempted to act like we used too, before the not talking to each other for months.

We joked. We laughed. I showed him a new song that I was writing. We watched 'The Blues Brothers'.

We didn't talk about anything serious. I think it was just what we needed.

Like I said before, though, it's Saturday morning, and things have slowly deteriorated. Me and Josh have gone back to the old way of life. The old way of life being what has been going on for the past few months. Ignoring, angry, Mindy being attached to his side and well…. ignoring.

Dad is at the station, the weekend shift called in sick, and Mom went with Megan to the Mall. Something about a dance? Shoes? Dress? And Make-up? All I know is that they are spending money, and I wasn't dragged along to be the bag carrier.

I'm sitting on top of the bed, playing my guitar. I'm not writing anything, I'm just bored and playing anything that comes to mind.

'_what have I become? my sweetest friend.' _I begin the chorus softly.

'_Everyone I know, goes away in the end'_ The strings beneath my hands creates a vibration. It's a jolt that shocks my entire body, but only leaves the tips of my fingers stinging and begging for more.

'_and you could have it all, my empire of dirt' _I keep my voice calm and soft as the beat picks up. My strumming becomes stronger. My wrist is starting to hurt from the constant movement. It's a feeling you learn to love.

'_I will let you down, I will make you hurt.' _The song itself is sad, but, by the way the chorus is written, the instrument gives off a happier tone.

I begin the last stanza of the song, when Josh's yelling enters my ears. It's just incoherent shouting that I can't understand. I choose to ignore it.

'_If I could start again'_

"No! You can't go in there!" Josh is now just down the hall, making it impossible to ignore him. His sentences are now entering my mind and forming words in English that I can understand. I'm still trying to ignore him though.

'_a million miles away'_

"Get Out! I'm telling you NO!"

Still trying to ignore him._ 'I would keep myself' _

I can hear shuffling, a slam onto the bedroom wall, and panting.

"Get-out-now!"

Still ignoring…. Still ignoring…. I am not interested in the least….

I strum the last chords of the song, before the final line.

'_I would find a wa-' _ The last line is interrupted by the guest bedroom door being swung open.

"Drake!"

….. so much for ignoring…. Wait, that wasn't Josh's voice.

I look up to find Kayle and Josh, both standing in the door way.

Kayle is looking at me with the most apologetic eyes anyone could have ever seen, it's almost pathetic.

Josh is the complete opposite. He's sweating. He's Huffing. He's angry. And he's trying his hardest not to kill Kayle.

"I told you to get out." Josh says in a dangerous tone.

Kayle completely ignores him, which only makes The Hulk more angry, and slowly walks towards me.

"…Drake? I've been phoning…" He's fidgeting. He can't keep calm at all. It's like he's worried that this conversation is going to kill him. With Josh behind him, that might actually happen.

Time to step in.

I put my guitar down beside me and pat at the lower part of my bed, showing Kayle that I want him to sit there. I'm hoping that this shows Josh that I'm fine with Kayle being here. Josh doesn't believe it though, and presses himself against the door.

As soon as Kayle sits down, words starts to fly out of his mouth. I swear, if I didn't know any better, I'd say that he was one of those electronic dolls that speak automatically. They don't shut up. I had to throw Megan's out the window when I was 8 years old, just so I could get some sleep! That didn't end well. I was put into the hospital for 3 days….. Mom still thinks that it was just a bicycle accident….

"I-I… Drake. I am so sorry!"

"I know you are Kayle, and I forgive you. Nothing bad happened." I say automatically.

"Wha-But you shouldn't! Something did happen, and we can't pretend that it didn't! Look at those bruises…"

He pulls his hands up to my eye touches it gently. Josh flinches, but he stays where he is.

"If we ever want to go anywhere in our relationship, we can't have this…"

I nod my head in his hand, agreeing.

"I don't know exactly what happened the other night, but all I know is that I hurt you. I don't know how, but by the look of your face it was pretty bad…." His voice is breaking. He really sounds like he's going to cry.

"Look, I'm going to get help. I am not going to become my father. This is never going to happen again, I promise." His index finger pushes slightly into the bruise. I grab onto Kayle's other hand and squeeze, just to refrain from hissing. If I hiss in pain, Josh will pounce. I cannot have Josh pouncing at the moment, Kayle is already scared enough.

"Again, I don't know what happened the other night, I hope I didn't do anything too… awful… like my father would have done.." He says this with a look of disgust.

"But I do know that I said 'I Love You'. That's the truth, Drake. That's the truth." His green eyes are staring full force into mine, trying to read what I'm thinking.

Josh opens his mouth, and looks up, shaking his head in disbelief. It seems like he's holding in a laugh. 'I can't believe it' he mouths to the ceiling.

I just continue holding Kayle's hand, believing every word. They're true. I know it. The look in his eyes is sincerity. It has to be true. It can't _not _be.

"Don't worry about it, Kayle, the bruise on my eye was the worst of it, I promise. And it's only this dark because your Dad had already hit it. Nothing bad happened, I promise. So stop feeling so guilty!" I give Kayle a laugh and pat him on the shoulder.

What I say doesn't relieve Kayle in the slightest. He can't even smile.

"I got accepted at Nasdaq…"

My smile instantly turns into a frown. I'm still in school. I'm not even sure if I'm graduating. Does this mean we'll be separated? But…..

"I start this September. September 5th to be exact."

Relief flows through my system, although Kayle still looks nervous as hell. I guess he didn't see the stress leave my shoulders, then.

" And I've looked into it, I found a small basement in a house near Astoria Road, which is only 6 minutes away from Nasdaq, in good traffic. A-and, I talked to Nick Mateo, well his secretary, and she said that you could use a recording studio there and send them songs. You could continue working for Spin City Records. So…. I guess I am wondering if you would want to come with me. You'd be done school, and Josh will have already left for university. I just thought that it'd be a perfect time and place to, you know, start your life."

New York. With Kayle. I mean, I accepted it the other night, but that was when alcohol was in my system.

Things would be so different. I'd be living on my own. Making my own wage. Living with Kayle… It all seems so real now.

"Kayle, I-I.." I try to speak, but I can't form words. I'm to shocked, my entire body is paralyzed.

Kayle closes his eyes and gives a heavy sigh. He pulls his hand away from mine and puts it to his jacket pocket, removing a small black velvet box from its depths.

"I was hoping to give this to you under better conditions, but I have a feeling that now is probably the best time…"

Josh's breath hitches and I pale as Kayle opens the small black velvet box.

It's a silver band. A large ring, I guess you could say. It's plain and simple. It's amazing.

"It's a promise ring" Kayle begins to explain. "Usually promise rings are given before proposal rings, saying that two people will be together forever without actually being married first. I never liked the idea, but I liked the name. So, I bought this 'Promise' Ring, not for you to accept to be with me forever, I thought that'd be a little weird. But, I bought it to promise you that I will change. That I will become a better person. That I will get help and never hurt you again…. And I thought that if I promised you that, maybe you'd accept it, and maybe you'd promise to come to New York with me? A promise for a promise?"

"Kayle…." I'm still shocked. Not only is he saying that he'll change, that he'll get help for something that he didn't even do, but he's offering for me to live with him. In New York. He's doing so much.

And the look in those Green Eyes. I know he means it, I know it.

I bring my hand to the box and lift the ring, examining it. It just a silver band, but when you tilt it to the light, you can see that it's been engraved on the inside.

'_I promise_' it reads.

"It's platinum" Kayle says. "Very real, and non-fake platinum."

I gasp slightly. "Platinum? That must have cost a fortune…"

Josh is still in the door way, his hands holding desperately onto his head, begging to just be let go. Begging to be allowed to writher around Kayle's neck, and _squeeze_.

Kayle shakes his head.

"The money doesn't matter, Drake. It's the meaning. I promise that I'll change. I will. And it's because I love you that I'll change. But, if you don't accept it, I will understand. Who'd want to live with an abuse victim right? We're completely fucked up…"

His voice sounds just like it did before we left Spokane. Weak and completely broken. I can't stand it anymore. I slide the ring down my … well, ring finger and force Kayle into a hug.

"I accept, Kayle. You probably don't remember, but the other night… I said I loved you too, and I said that'd I wanted to be with you. That was true. And the feeling hasn't changed." Kayle is shaking slightly in my arms. The shaking reminds me of that night.

_Don't think about it, Drake. Don't think about it. He said he's going to change. It wasn't even his fault. But it couldn't have been his fault anyway, because nothing happened!"_

A whimper escapes Kayle throat. "Really?"

I hold him tighter. "It's true"

"….Happy Anniversary, Drake"

Josh gives an angered sigh before slamming his fist into the door. It creates a loud bang, but none of us pay much attention to it.

I turn my attention back to Kayle, and not to the loud angry stomps that are scuffing themselves across the hallway floor.

"Happy Anniversary, Kayle." April 4th. It's our 2 month anniversary. According to Johnny, it's been 3 months. But, really, who listens to him?

From down the hallway, I hear a clicking sound, shortly followed by 10 beeps. Josh's voice flows through the house.

"…Hey, Mindy. Can you come over? ….You can? Great… please, get over here soon, _please._"

I hear another clicking. The phone was shut off.

By the echoes in the house, I can tell that none of the bodies within it are moving. We all stay in the exact same position, only breathing. It's like it's a competition. _Let's see who can stay still the longest. No talking allowed. Go._

It's eerie, because there isn't a competition. It just has happened. Not even me or Kayle try to make our positions more comfortable on the bed. It might make a noise.

Everything is silent until the doorbell rings, 5 minutes later.

"...Josh?"

Mindy's here.

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><p>Enndddd Chapter. A short chapter! (...kinda) But see, what'd I tell ya, nothing too special. And, heh, my answering machine always says that. 'Saturday 6th, 12 am, Time and Day Not Set.' It's incredibly annoying...<p>

But the song that Drake was singing is one of my favorites. It's Hurt by Johnny Cash, I thought that it would work well for this chapter. :)

Review :)


	9. Chapter 8

Sorry for the late update! I think that my updates will only be weekly (like on saturday mornings before work...) from now on until I have more free time! This is a legit, legit filler chapter. So really, nothing too exciting happens. Sorry about that!

Warning: This Chapter is slightly (I think) depressing.

Disclaimer: ... I do not own Drake and Josh... unfortunantly.

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><p>Chapter 8<p>

Josh's POV

It is now summertime. Graduation has long since past, but hasn't yet been forgotten. Mindy and I created the valedictorian speech and told it together. Mr. Chalmers, our principle, said that it was the most emotional 45 minutes that he's ever lived to talk about. Mrs. Hayfer said she cried. I'm going to miss these guys. They've been family to me for the past 4 years of my life, I just can't imagine leaving them behind.

The sun is out and shining it's electromagnetic radiation that can be seen by the human eye, as well as be felt by our skin. I have remembered to put on my SPF 50 sunscreen every day before stepping outside during daylight hours. Mindy thinks I'm crazy. '_SPF 50 causes an unknown friction within your skin cells, creating a negative effect that you don't want.' _she said. '_If you want one that might actually protect your skin cells, go with SPF 100. It's incredibly difficult to find, but definitely worth your lives protection. Wow, Josh, I thought this would be something you'd be an expert in.'_

It was difficult to find, but Mindy told me the directions of some little shop down town in an unknown alley. It was owned by a long haired hippie. She wasn't too bad, I mean, she sold equipment for my magic. Anyone who likes magic can't be that bad, right? I mean… she did have that vase thing, the one with all the curves. It had a long stem, a large bowl at the bottom, and this thing that came out of it. The Hippie had said that it was called 'the bowl'. She also said that a sharp looking kid like me, who was looking for SPF 100, shouldn't be touching a _bong._ _Bong_ or not, that round bottom flask thing-a-ma-jig thing was used for drugs. I guarantee you!

It's late July, so I'll be leaving for Yale in a little over a month. I have already started packing. I do not want to forget anything. San Diego to New Haven is just too far of a way to send something. Not to mention, it's expansive!

Megan has been shopping, spending her days at the beach, and with friends doing makeovers. She's preparing to be a senior in Middle School. When you're a senior girl in Middle School, you always have to look nice and be on guard. At least, that's what she told my Dad when she asked for money last week. I told her to just get a job, like me, but she just laughed and punched me…. I still have the bruise. But her always being gone is also nice. It means that on my days off of work, I have the house to myself. I can just sit back and read, relax, practice my magic, maybe play a little video games, study, or hang out with Mindy.

Lately, being home alone has happened every day. I usually work Night-shift, so I don't have to be at work until between 6-8 pm. And since I'm co-manager, I help Helen make the schedule. So, Mindy is usually on Night-shift with me as well. This way, we get to hang out together and know that everything is being done correctly.

Mom was offered a promotion after last Christmas Break, so she's been at work a lot lately. It kind of feels like she's been ignoring us, but in reality, she's just busy. And my Dad was also offered a raise. So, he has been working a lot of extra hours too, that's why our parents haven't been home recently. You'd think with this being the last summer that Me and Drake are living here, they'd want to spend time with us. I understand completely that they are busy, but, I just miss them…

That reminds me… Drake. I don't think Mom or Dad even know about Drake's plan for New York. I hope when they find out, they forbade him from going.

The relationship between Drake and Kayle is not a good one. Drake has come home too many times with black eyes and swollen lips for it to be a good relationship.

The other day I forced Drake to come to the beach to the beach with me. It was strange because when we arrived, he had refused to take off his shirt, or go swimming. I mean, I could guess why he was hiding, I just didn't want to believe it. When I had asked why, he said that he was too pale and being pale is un-attractive, and that only _Creature_ would be able to look at something so pale. Apparently, he really thought he was pale.

Eventually, I had ripped the shirt from his body, but he immediately hit the sandy floor, laying on his stomach. He stayed like that for the full four hours that we were there. He obtained a nice looking sun burn, as well as heat stroke because of it.

The thing that sticks out in my mind about that, is when he asked for my water. I obliged and handed him the metallic bottle. Reaching for it, he lifted his stomach slightly, turning to me. I could see a large black bruise running from his hip to his chest. Luckily, he couldn't tell that I noticed. I also chose to ignore all the small scabs that were impaled on his back.

Tonight, my parents are out again. They are in Los Angeles on a miniature 'Romantic' vacation just for the two of them. Megan is at Jeanie's. Mindy is at the theatre, but she won't be stopping by after her shift. I was supposed to work, but I knew that Kayle was coming over, _again,_ so I called in sick. Helen hadn't believed me so I told her that no one was home and Drake wasn't feeling well.

"Drake not alright? Ahhh, good heavens, that poor child. Josh, you just spend as much time as you need to make sure that that boy gets everything he wants. God knows he deserves it. But when you do get back, I need you to clean the basement. Rats again, and I'm not allowing Crazy Steve near those mice traps. That boy only sees two things, free cheese and a challenge, and I- ohh… I need to go get the milk… Tell Drake to get better! …Crazy Steve, drop that poor man or I will-" She turned off the phone at that point. Too bad, it was just getting interesting.

It's kind of funny, I barely even spoke. I just said 'Drake isn't feeling well', and she blabbered for almost 5 minutes! I could never understand her love for that boy.

But, here I am, home and practically alone. I swear, if I ever witness Kayle hurting Drake in any sort of way, well, I don't know what I'd do. Kayle is only a little bit bigger then myself, but I'm not a physical person. Drake is usually able to handle himself, trying to prove his masculinity due to the fact that he's a little on the shrimpy side, but he's a good fighter. I don't think he can handle this one, though.

The bruises. The swollen lips. The small scabs on his back. That bruise on his stomach. Drake doesn't deserve it. He may be irritable at times, egotistical, annoying, impulsive, irresponsible, thoughtless, an attention seeker, a philanthropist, a jerk, uncaring to other's feelings, uncaring in general, a… OH! You get the point! I can't handle this anymore. He's getting hurt, and I can't help him. That's why I'm here tonight, with the T.V volume turned down so if Kayle does do something, I _can_ help. I can kick Kayle out. I can intervene.

I just don't understand why he doesn't leave Kayle. He says that he's in love but… this is Drake Parker we're talking about! Drake Parker does NOT fall in love!

I hear footsteps coming down the stairs. Looking at my watch, I see that it's already 12:00.

Drake and Kayle enter the room, laughing quietly. Neither look towards me.

Drake just leads Kayle to the door, opening it.

"See ya tomorrow, man." Drake says smiling.

"See ya." Kayle gives Drake a small kiss on the lips just before leaving.

It makes me want to puke.

I'm not against gays or bisexual people, or anything, I mean, I swear that Craig and Eric are closeted gays, and they're my best friends, it's just, it's Drake. The guy who's made out with more than 75 GIRLS. My step-brother. My use to be Best Friend. Drake, who's kissing someone who's hitting him. Am I the only one not disturbed by this?

Drake closes the door, and we catch each other's eyes. His eyes are dull and emotionless, the complete opposite of what he seemed to be only seconds before. I know that mine are full of fury and disgust. This doesn't faze him though. He turns and walks into the kitchen, grabbing an apple before walking back upstairs.  
>….Wait, that wasn't walking. He was limping, slightly.<p>

He wasn't limping when Kayle got here. He wasn't limping this morning. He wasn't limping yesterday.

His limping happened recently. Even with the T.V turned down, something happened. I didn't hear anything!

But… I wanted too. That's why I'm here. To help if something happened. That's why I called in sick.

Something did happen, and I didn't help him! That defeated the entire purpose of me even being here!

I can't handle this anymore. He's getting hurt, and un-like usual, I'm not there to bust him out of this messed up situation that he always seems to land himself in.

I can't help him.

Not now.

Not in the past.

Not when they go to New York.

Not tonight.

Not tomorrow.

Not now.

….This is killing me.

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><p>Drakes POV<p>

Heh... I'm limping, Josh noticed. I know that for a fact. I wonder what type of crazy scenario he's thought up this time! It probably can't top the real one. The real one is kind of a funny story. Heh... well, let's just say that me and Kayle were getting a little carried away. We were trying to get to the couch from the chair... apparently there was a table in the way...

Anyways, things in mine and Kayle's relationship are going great! Ya, sure we've had our tough points, but every relationship has some rocky roads! It's part of being in a relationship.

Kayle does get a little mean when he drinks... but that doesn't happen a lot!

…. And he does get a little angry when he gets high, but that's only when he's had a lot to drink and we're at a party. Kayle is a really nice guy. He wouldn't harm a fly! Especially when he's sober.

When he drinks a lot, I just end up saying something stupid that ticks him off, or somehow I end up getting in the way. I deserve what I get. It's my fault anyway.

Last week, I went over to his house, and he had just downed half of a 40 of Tequila. It was my fault, what happened. I said something about his Dad, and that maybe he drinks because of the things his dad did to him.

My stomach still has the bruise from that night. Josh forced me to go to the beach the next day after it happened, but I laid with my stomach on the ground the entire time, hiding it. Sure, I ended up with a horrible sun burn and crazy heat stroke, but Josh never saw the bruise! If he did, he would have thought up some crazy theory. It's just a small, tiny bruise, so I guess I could have turned around. It just looks like I ran into a tree or something. It's really tiny. So, I guess he wouldn't have been able to see it? Maybe I shouldn't have been so worried.

I use to fight back, when Kayle became a little bit aggressive, but now, I just let it happen. He needs to let go of some stress. I know that Kayle is just coping from the past abuse. He rarely does anything too mean, anyway. He wakes up screaming sometimes, begging for the pain to stop. I understand that, so I forgive him for anything that happens. It isn't his fault. Really, it isn't.

I'm always near him too, so I always end up rescuing him from flashbacks and the nightmares. I help him.

I'm the only one who can.

He loves me.

I love him.

I know that I'll probably never leave him until I die.

I can't.

For the rest of my life, I'll be with Kayle.

Once, during an alcoholic rage, he said that I'm his. He apologized like no other the day after.

The more time that goes by, I'm beginning to understand him, believe him, though.

No one would have ever loved me, anyway. No girl would have ever settled down with me. I'm too un-trustworthy. Lucy and Kayle are right. I'm a whore. A slut. No one wants to live with a slut.

But Kayle does. He's willing to live the rest of his life with me.

He's the only one who would ever do that. Ever.

Therefore, I am his. If he's willing to spend the rest of his life with me, a slut, I have to give my life to him. Because if I don't, I'll end up living by myself, forever. I need attention. I couldn't live by myself. I wouldn't be able to handle it. Even now, I live in a room with Josh. I have dinner, most of the time, with my parents. I go to school with my friends. I'm always with people. If I live by myself, that would all go away. Adults would see me for who I really am; a slut, an annoying jerk who never thinks of others. The real Drake Parker.

This is my one and only chance to live with someone who really does love me.

I am not going to give up that chance, because I know that I'd never get another.

I don't deserve one.

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><p>Enndd Chappter! Poor Drake and Josh... I'm not a huge fan of this chapter, though. Not too great. I think the next one is better! :p<p>

Haha, also, I had no idea what I was talking about with Mindy and the lotion. Does it read that way? :p

I thought it would be easier writing Josh. I learned something, though. You actually have to BE smart to sound smart, something that I slightly fail in. Especially with Sciences.

Review! :)


	10. Chapter 9

So... much... to do! Tests, Essays, Art Homework (anyone ever hear of art homework? I surely didn't until this year...), homework in general, and my B*$% of a boss keeps schedualing me right after school. So, 2 am bed times have become the norm... And sorry everyone, this is another long chapter -_- I was trying so hard to stop that :/ And just a little warning, Megan is a little OOC in this... I am a litte worried for a scene between Drake and Josh a little later in the Chapter too...

Disclaimer: I do not own Drake and Josh... And I need to start coming up with better disclaimers

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><p>Chapter 9<p>

September 2nd. That's the date of today. September 2nd. It's September the second... The second day of September...

I'm leaving with Kayle tomorrow, around noon. Most of our stuff is already packed and already at the apartment that I haven't even visited yet...

I still have not told my parents, but they haven't noticed that my stuff is all in boxes and have been shipped away, either. It's weird, knowing that MY life is finally going to begin. There isn't going to be parent's to tell me what to do anymore. I'll be working for a living, especially now that my Debut Album is just a couple of months away. My parents don't know about that either. I tried to tell my Mom in August that my 'Debut Album' was coming out soon. She didn't answer. She was sitting at the dinner table reading some notes, maybe it wasn't the best time to tell her? But then I joked and said that, whoops! It was coming out tomorrow. She gave me no reply. I then said that I was in a long relationship with a guy and was moving away in September, in other words I told her the truth. All I got was 'That's nice, Honey.'

Josh came into the room right after that, telling us that his class schedule had just been shipped in. Mom got all giddy, and jumped up, hugging and kissing Josh on the spot, telling him how happy she was for him. I left the room, neither seeming to know that I was ever there. I'm debating on even telling my parents about leaving. I mean, Megan will notice, but she'll be happy, because... wait, she might not be. There'll be no one to pick on anymore.

Me and Josh not being here will torture her and make her suffer. Megan being tortured for once, ahhh, that'll be a dream come true.

Josh is leaving today for Yale. He won't tell my parents that I'm leaving, but if one son is leaving, will my Mom become emotional and try to spend more time with me and Megan? Or will she become emotional and turn to work for support?

I'm having a Drake Pity Party, if you haven't noticed. It's really fun, thinking about everything that's wrong in your life. After the session is done, budda-bing budda-boom, you feel better! It's a trick Kayle taught me one night. I don't even know how we got on the topic of 'Pity Parties', but we did! And I'm thankful for it! ...I guess?

"So for how long?" My little sister's villainous voice interrupts my Pity Party Session. Damn it, I really needed that Pity Party.

"...Whaaaat are you talking about?" I ask, incredibly annoyed. My little sister likes to play mind games. Evil mind games. I swear, she's Satan's love child with... with... Satan himself! Nothing can be more evil than the love child of 2 Satans!

"You know what I'm talking about, Drake." See? Mind games. Evil mind games. I have no idea what she's talking about.

"Megan, stop with your little demon mind games, I'm really not in the mood."

"Okay then, Drake. I'll be kind to you for this one-small-moment." She says the last three words really slowly, like they're threats. It's really creepy.

"Why are you sulking on your couch, in your room, your _empty_ room, on the day that's Josh is leaving?"

I only understand 4 words that come out of her mouth, the rest was jibberish. The four words I understood were 'sulking-on-your-couch'. ... Hey! I'm not sulking! Well, not anymore, and that's only because she interrupted me. I wish I was sulking.

"I'm not sulking!" I say, voicing my thoughts.

"Oh, please, Drake. Your acting just like you did when Josh was 'Done With You'" Megan uses her index and middle fingers to make quotations around the 'Done With You'. She only did it because she knows I hate it. Always have, always will, don't know why, I-just-do.

"Megan, get out of my room." I'm older then she is! I should be treated with respect! I should have authority here! I can drive! Can Megan drive? Noooooo!

"When were you planning on telling Mom and Dad about your little 'move' tomorrow?" More quotations. Stop using quotations, damn it!

"I have no idea what you're talking about, Megan."

"Yes you do, Drake. Trust me, I know. And if you don't spill now, some very nasty things that involve electrocution and wires in your bedroom will land you in the hospital. If you tell me, I'll disable all of the wires. That's the deal. The truth, or your life."

Satan's Child. Satan's Child. Satan's Child. Satan's Child. Satan's Child. Satan's Child!

"Fine, Megan! Don't kill me, please. I'll tell you anything, just cut off the wires!"

Megan smiles widely and brings out a little remote from her pocket, pressing a big red button on top.

"Operation Electrocution 4872 is disabled" A women's automatic voice flows from the remote.

"There, it's off. But just remember Drake, you better tell the truth, because I'll know. And if I find out you lied, I can and_ will_ turn this back on."

"Fine! I'll talk! Just keep the wires off! Wh-what do you want to know?" I quickly raise my hands in defence as I speak. I do not want to go to the hospital for something revolving wires and electrocution. The last time that happened, I had accidently broke Megan's Karaoke Box. I was dancing around randomly one day when I was 8, and it was there in the living room. It was shiny. I thought it was big enough to hold my weight, and be a dance stage... Megan wasn't happy. I was put in the hospital for 5 days. Mom still thinks that it was just a science experiment gone awry.

"Firstly, I want to know how long." She states. Again with the mind games? Really, Satan's Child?

"Firstly," I begin in a mocking tone "I want to know what you want to know has been going on for so long?" I say cleverly. Two can play mind games, Little Demon.

Megan just stares at me with a dull expression. "That sentence made no sense, Drake."

"Yes it did."

"No, it didn't."

"Whatever! Just answer it. You know what I mean."

"You and Kayle."

Oh... That... I guess I should have seen that coming. But... How... Whenn..WHAT? How did she find THAT out!

"But... How... When... What!" My jaw is on the floor. I can feel my forehead wrinkling as my face contorts itself into a confusion.

"I stole your cell a couple days ago. Kayle was texting you, talking about 'how excited he was that you were moving to New York with him. How he was so excited to start his new job. How happy that he has someone like _you _in his life, someone who _truly _loves him'."

Megan repeats Kayle texts in a high pitched voice, mocking him, but I never got those texts, hearing those words make my stomach flip. He never told me that. Other than that he's happy to be starting his new job.

"Blehhhk" Megan sticks her tongue out in disgust, like she's trying to get something nasty off of it. "It was disgusting. But, I was interested, so I pretended to be you. I just acted stupid and slut-ish and it worked perfectly. I deleted all the texts after that."

Stupid. And Slut-ish. This is what my now 13 year old sister thinks of me. And that's what she pretended to be like when talking to Kayle. It worked?

"I... we've been dating since February." I say, no longer interested in the conversation.

"When are you leaving to New York?"

"Tomorrow afternoon."

"Why are you leaving?"

"Because, Josh is leaving and I think that this will be a good chance to start my life."

"Any other reasons?"

"I love Kayle."

"Any _other_ reasons." There is. The second main reason I'm leaving. Well, there's no reason _not_ to say it. I'm leaving anyway, so who cares if Megan knows?

"... I can't stand living here anymore."

Megan lets her shoulders fall forward along with her hair, eyes closing in anguish. I can see her hand clenching and unclenching at her sides.

"So... you're just gunna leave me here, as well? You think I want to stay here? Mom hasn't paid attention to _any of us_ for months. Neither has Walter. They've tried, god knows they've tried, but... work always gets in the way. It calls them every second of their lives. It's like they don't care. That isn't true, is it Drake? Mom still cares about us, right? Do you think she even remembers about tomorrow?" Megan's voice is rising as she speaks, letting the emotion she's been holding in just leak out like a broken faucet.

"Megan..."

"I knew Josh was leaving. I didn't think you were. I thought you'd stay here forever. Well, at least until I graduated. I thought I'd have you here my entire High School life. I never pictured going through it without you here. That was too weird. You're my brother, my real brother... I didn't want to see you go... not yet, Drake. Not yet... I'm not ready to let you go yet, too.."

If I didn't know any better, I'd say that Megan was luring me in to one of her schemes, but I look at the calendar and am reminded of the date. September 2nd. Tomorrow is the anniversary of Dad's death. The day he had his car crash. Well, tonight is technically the anniversary of his car crash, but tomorrow, 11:48 am is when he was declared dead. He was alive and in pain for almost 12 hours... I'm leaving on the day that my Dad died, around the time that my Dad died. Megan probably sees this as me abandoning her, when no one else seems to give a shit. When did she start feeling this way? I never wanted any one in my family to feel the same way I did.

I know she's not luring me into a trap, she's just being a 13 year old girl who misses her Dad, her Mom, and trying the best she can to deny my leaving. Deny that everything is changing.

I feel horrible.

I get up from my seat on my couch, and grab her small shaking form, pulling her in for a hug.

She doesn't hug me back, instead she just begins to cry. This is not like the Megan I know. But, I guess even Satan's Child needs a Pity Party every once in a while too.

Sniffling, I can hear Megan muttering into my chest.

"T-thanks... Drake... I'll miss you..."

"I'll miss you too, Megan, but I'll probably be home for Christmas, if not Thanksgiving! It's not like we're never going to see each other again! We're brother and sister. And truthfully, as long as there is a boy around you, you'll never be too far away from my thoughts... or my radar for that matter."

Megan laughs at what I say, pushing herself away from the hug.

She gets up and goes to the door, opening it slowly, as if opening it slowly will make time go slower as well. Slowing down Josh's departure, slowing down my leaving. Slowing down everything that's going too fast. I just realized how different and difficult this will be for her.

"I meant what I said Drake. I will miss you."

"And I meant what I said, Megan. Get close to a boy, and my inner-older brother radar _will _go off. And if that happens, well, I'll be here sooner than you can say 'Kiss me, Carl!"

Megan takes a deep breath before answering me "... Promise?"

"Promise."

"Thanks, Drake. You can be a real boob sometimes, but, I like it when you actually understand what's happening around you. It's like you're actually applying yourself to reality, and taking it in. Understanding it. Something that normal kids have to do at school every day. It's a very rare thing, though, when you do it." She sticks her tongue out at me playfully.

"Hahahahha, funnnnnyyyy! Now leave! I need to get back to my Pity Party Session!"

"... Pity Party Session?"

"Yes."

"Don't you mean sulking?"

"... Just leave!"

"Finneee!" Megan is just about to shut the door on her way out, leaving me almost in complete silence when I hear a muffled "Electrocution Wires Are Now Turned On." But... I told the truth! She lied! Satan's Child lied! Well, I should've seen that one coming!

"Megan, what was that?" I yell to the door.

"Uhhh... Nothing Drake!

"No, that was an automated voice! It was your-"

"You're dreaming, Drake."

"What?"

"None of this actually happened."

"What? Megan, don't brainwash me, yes it did, I was-"

"Drake, Mom needs me, and talking to me when Mom is calling for me is rude. Goodbye!"

Megan slams my door shut and I can hear her feet shuffling away, a fit of laughter going along with it.

I love my little demon sister.

* * *

><p>After my little demon sister left my room, the tears drying from her face, I booked it to the bathroom. If there really were wires in my room, that could electrocute me at any moment, I did not want to be in there. I sat in the bathtub for over an hour, sulking, before deciding that after a brother-sister moment like that, Megan wouldn't actually hurt me... right? She wouldn't do that... I think... At least at the moment I am really hoping so, because this Bathtub is really not as comfortable as my couch.<p>

As I open the door leading to my room, I find Josh standing there, back facing me. He's just staring off into space.

"Josh? You have to leave in, like, 20 minutes. What are you doing up here?"

My voice brings Josh out of his trance, but he still doesn't reply. He doesn't turn to face me either.

"Y'know, I'm kind of shocked. You're leaving today, in less than twenty minutes, and from what I remember, _Creature,_ is leaving next week. She is still in town, so my question is why isn't she here?" I decide that maybe bringing up _Creature_ probably isn't the best idea, but maybe it'll force Josh to _look_ at me.

"We said 'Goodbye' to each other last night. We thought that it'd be best if she didn't come today."

I guess talking to me is even better than just looking at me. "Ahhh... So what are you doing in here?" I try asking again. It's really weird seeing Josh like this. Frozen, barely moving, speaking in just one, distant tone. He's usually so spazzy, loud, and flaily. Aka, not this!

"Drake, there's been something I've been meaning to tell you." He still isn't facing me. This is starting to piss me off... even though it pissed me off when I first got into the room.

"What, Josh?" My pissed off tone can heard in my voice.

"There's been a reason I haven't been... with you a lot recently. That I have been ignoring you..."

"Ya, I know why. Because you're leaving to University, and you're going to be separated from Mindy, and you're sad because of that, so, you tried to spend as much time with _her_ as you could"

"That's only a quarter of it, Drake. There's another reason."

Oh god... there's _another_ reason? Why can't Josh be like me? And just have 1 simple reason for everything! ... My recent talk with Megan about why I'm leaving does not count.

"... Because I'm with Kayle? And you hate Kayle?"

"Okay, there's a 3rd reason."

First I was playing Mind Games with Satan's Child, and here I am playing Mind Games with Josh. My brain can't handle this much longer.

"I haven't been spending a whole lot of time with you, and I've been spending more time with Mindy because there is something that I'm dealing with. There's something going on in my life and I don't really know how to deal with it." Josh is starting to really worry me. He usually always talk about his feelings, but this is scaring me.

"What's going on Josh?" My voice is small, I'm trying to keep it worry free and as gentle as possible.

Josh begins talking to himself, like I am not here. "I just, I don't know. I can't tell if they're real or not."

"What? Josh, who's isn't real?"

"Them! The feelings. My feelings. I just don't know!" Josh is beginning to yell out his sentences in frustration.

"Feelings? What feelings, Josh?"

"These feelings." Josh finally turns to me, eyes holding more determination than I have ever seen in the boy, and trust me, I saw a lot of determination in those eyes when he was studying for exams, and doing scholarships this year.

Josh just stares at me before hurriedly walking up to my side. He grasps both sides of my head and brings my face to his, lips barely touching each other. We are definitely kissing though. I can feel the hot breath from his nose itching my cheek.

Unlike last time, my arms do not fly above my head. They stay at my sides in shock. Josh keeps his eyes closed instead of looking at me. He presses himself more into the kiss.

We aren't moving, but un-like Kayle, I can't feel any stubble. I forgot the feeling of no stubble when kissing. I've become so used to it, I kind of like it now. This feels weird... maybe it's just weird for the situation.

Josh is completely still, but gentle. I can feel his lips quivering against mine. I think I'm just frozen in shock. After a full minute passes, Josh pulls away.

"Shit." He murmurs.

My hand is instantly at my mouth, wiping it of anything Josh may have received from _Creature. "_Josh?" I huff out. "What the he-"

"I knew they were real. The kiss may have not said much to you, but... Drake, please come with me to New haven!"

"What?" I scream.

"Drake, I knew it. I love you. And not just like a brother! I-i've been dealing with these feelings since last Christmas, when I realized that we'll probably never have another adventure like that _again_ with each other. I thought that if I put distance between you and myself, it'd hurt less when I'd have to leave you behind. But, then around March, when I was kissing Mindy, I found myself pretending that I was kissing you. It was you in my arms. It was you that I was holding. Mindy knew right away, but... she didn't want to believe it... Drake, please, please come with me."

"Is this some sort of joke?" I scream at him "You're leaving in the next 10 minutes. You've ignored me for months, I'm leaving with _Kayle_ tomorrow! The man that I am in a relationship with and really care about! A man that I do _love!_ I mean what the hell, Josh?"

"You're still going to New York with Kayle? Why can't you come with me, at least that way I know you'll be safe..."

Holy shit. I understand now. Josh is just pretending to say that he loves me, just so I won't go to New York with Kayle. I knew he hated him, but I didn't think he'd go this far to try to separate us. He should've known that his attempt never would have worked, anyways.

"Is this just because I'm leaving with Kayle tomorrow? Are you lying to me, saying you 'Love Me', just so I won't go?"

"Yes! No... Oh, I don't know! I'm just saying what's on my mind! I don't want you to go with Kayle!"

"Why don't you like him, Josh? I HATE Mindy with a passion, but at least I know that you like her, or at least I thought you did. I even stepped out of the way this year, just so you could spend more time with her, like I thought you wanted. I thought she made you happy, so I left you be. Kayle makes me happy, I love being with him, so why don't you do the same for me?"

"Because I can't, Drake... I just can't. I don't trust him."

"He's a really nice guy, Josh. If you just gave him a chance, you would have liked him!"

"He hurt you!"

"That was one time!"

"What? It was more than once, Drake!"

"He's had a tough life, Josh. His Dad was an abusive alcoholic. He's just coping right now!"

"Right, just because he was hit doesn't mean he should hit you. There is never a reason to physically hurt someone!"

"He hasn't hit me in a long time, Josh. The last time he did that was in March! And it was one time!"

"Right... where'd did that bruise on your cheek come from then?"

A voice can be heard downstairs, yelling up to us. "_Josh! You need to leave now! You're going to be late!" _It's Walters voice.

I lift my hand to my left cheek, reminding myself of the bruise. "... Goodbye, Josh. I hope you have a good life with Mindy, because I know for a fact that I'm going to have a good life with Kayle."

"Drake..."

"_Josh! You're going to be late!" _Walters voice reaches us once again.

I grab the doorknob and open the door. "Goodbye, Josh." I repeat.

Josh just stares at me, looking at me as if he'll never see me again. Instead of answering me, he just picks up a backpack that had been lying on the floor, and walks out the door, never turning around.

I slam the door shut after his body is out of my sight and walking down the stairs. I run to the large window on the wall, watching as Josh gets into his vehicle. My Mom and Walter are standing there, smiling. I guess they've already hugged each other. Walter puts his arm around my Mom's shoulders as she waves at her step-son, crying. Josh turns on the vehicle, and waves one last time, before starting to pull out.

I can see Megan run from the front door and onto the lawn. She's yelling something at Josh.

I can't hear it, but it makes Josh stop his vehicle. He puts it into park, and opens the door. Megan flies to his side and hugs him. From here, I can tell that she's crying. She's crying for Josh? Really?

He rubs her back kindly, and she pulls away, wiping her eyes from the falling tears. Josh puts his large hands on her shoulders, forcing her to look at him. She begins nodding her head, before laughing. I can see her lips form the words "_I will." _Josh smiles at her one more time, before pulling her in for one more quick embrace.

Megan pulls away, and walks back up to Mom. She just looks at her, with her dull expression, before walking back into the house. From here I can hear the door slam, and Megan running to her room. She's still crying.

I turn back to the scene that's taking place on the front lawn. Josh gives a heavy sigh, before closing his door. He pulls out of the driveway, smiling and waving once more before driving off. He's going alone. Mom has to work tomorrow, and so does Walter. Neither of them could get time off to help Josh get comfortable in Yale.

The car is driving off in the distance, and Mom and Walter walk back inside. Mom is still in Walter's embrace. Neither of them, including Josh, ever looked to my room.

None of my parent's even wondered why I wasn't there.

I'm so fucking excited to leave tomorrow.

I only have to spend one more horrible night in this empty room. Only one more night and this empty house.

I feel sorry for Megan.

* * *

><p>After Josh leaves, it takes me a total of ten minutes to pry myself away from the window and run downstairs.<p>

When I reach the kitchen, I find my mother sitting at the table, reading her notes, totally unfazed by everything that just happened. Josh leaving, Megan crying, my not even being outside to say 'Goodbye'.

Angered, I stomp towards the cabinet. I grasp a glass tightly and throw it on the ground, watching it shatter.

My mother is up in an instance, shocked by the shattered remnants that are dispersed on the floor.

"Drake, what the he-"

"I'm in a relationship."

My mother kneels to the ground, beginning to pick up the pieces. "Well, that's great, Honey, but did you have to-"

"I've been in a relationship for pretty much 7 months now."

My mother remains staring at the floor. "Was that the glass that my father gave me?"

"Mom, are you even listening?"

"Drake Parker! My Father gave me that glass when I first got married!" She screams at me.

"Will you forget about that fucking glass?" I scream back, equalling her tone.

"Don't you dare use that lan-"

"Your Daughter is upstairs, balling her fucking eyes out. Do you want to know why? Because Josh just left. I'm leaving tomorrow, to New York, to go spend, hopefully, the rest of my life with someone who I love and who I know loves me back. Your daughter is crying, in her room, by herself, because you don't give a _fuck_ about us. You haven't for months. All you seem to care about lately is some promotion that you got! ... Do you know what today is?"

My Mom listens to my speech, for the most part. She lets a piece of broken glass fall out of her hand, dropping towards the floor once again. Neither of us flinch when it shattering deafens us one more time.

I also don't flinch when my Mom just stares at me, hoping I'll continue with my speech. It's difficult now. She crosses her arms in front of her chest. I guess her hand was cut from the glass, because it is now bleeding, slightly, against her blue cardigan.

When she realizes that I am not continuing until she answers my question, she gives a loud sigh. "It's Friday?"

"What is the _date_ of today, Mom?"

"... the second?"

"Of what? Of what month?"

"...September? It's September the 2nd. The second day of September. Damn it, Drake, I don't have time for this!" She yells, once again lowering herself towards the floor, trying to pick up the pieces.

"What is tomorrow?" I am trying sooooo hard to remain calm. Be like Josh, Drake, beee like Josh. When Josh was angry at me, but remained calm, it was always the scariest thing in the world. I'm trying to achieve the same thing, be intimidating and scary, but it's friggin difficult! You have to have so much self-control. Self-control is something I do not have.

"It's September 3rd tomorrow. Saturday. And the day after that is Sunday, the 4th. Do you want me to get you a calendar, Drake?"

"I'm 18 years old."

"Really? Because right now you're acting more like 8!"

"Mom. I'm 18. Tomorrow is Saturday. September 3rd. What happened 9 years ago tomorrow?" Mom obviously didn't get my hints, my oh-so-obvious hints. I also screw trying to be like Josh. Anger is seeping out of me every which way, I'm just letting flow fucking out!

"... You haven't gone to the cemetery to see him for the last 5 years, why would I expect you to start now?" She asks me quietly, grabbing a garbage can from under the sink. She picks up some more pieces, with only her bare hands, looking like she's about to cry. With a shake of her head, she throws out them out.

"I still don't want to go. I just want you to be here for Megan when I leave."

"And where exactly are you going?" She is still picking up the pieces. Grab, hold, stare sadly, throw it in the garbage can. Repeat process.

"I'm going to New York. I've already told you this, but obviously you didn't give me the light of day, because you don't seem to remember now."

"Drake, you never told me-"

"Yes I did, Mom! I also told you that I am in a relationship. A relationship, that in 2 days, marks my 7 month anniversary. Have you even noticed that I have barely been here? That I have been sneaking out at night, oh, wait, I'm sorry, exiting through the front door at 7:30 pm, and coming home at 11:30 the next day? No? Oh, well, let's just pretend you did notice. That you did care. Did you ever wonder where I was?"

"Drake-"

"No, listen to me. I might actually have something important to say for once."

I watch my mother. Her eyes are now fully on me, letting me have her full attention. This hasn't happened since Kayle's first visit here, when I got up from the table...

Don't think about that now, Drake. Think of the happy times. The happy times. The happy times... Let's get back to the conversation.

"My Dad died tomorrow. It'll be the 9th anniversary. Un-fuckin-fortunately, I won't be here to celebrate what won't be 'celebrated'. Again, I'll be moving to New York. I'll be moving with someone that I love, Okay? I don't care if you don't approve, I'm still leaving. Want to know why? Because,"

I take a deep breath before continuing. 8 months of repressed emotions are going to come out now. Finally. I'm finally speaking.

"For the last 8 months, you have been ignoring me, and shooing me away. You haven't listened to me. You have barely looked at me. Did you know that I barely graduated? The only reason I did graduate is because the person that I am in a relationship with, helped me with my homework, and forced me to study every-single-night. He helped me. He would stay on the phone until 3 am in the morning, when he had to work at 6, making sure I understood what the hell happens when plural membranes are punctured, how do you describe the changing in direction when enthalpy and entropy move forward, what's the difference between Satire and Allegory, what is the answer for 4 cos2 when x=3?. He made sure that I got at least a B in every subject, and when I didn't get even a low B on even one quiz, he called the school and made sure I got a retest, pretending that he was Walter... He freaked me out and hell, it made me angry every time it happened, but I passed! I even got a 87% on my English Exam. It's all because of him! Did you even know that I got an 87% on my English, huh? He's the ONLY reason why I graduated. You never even bothered to ask me if I had homework!"

I have only one more thing to say. One more breath. Inhale. Exhale. Speak.

"Now, I was angry as fuck with you, with Walter. Josh barely even talked to me all year as well, you probably didn't notice that either, huh? But, we're past all this now. Nothing can change what has happened. Megan, who is starting her last year of Middle School, is upstairs crying. You've already screwed me over, don't screw her over as well. I don't hold grudges, I'll probably forgive you when you give me an explanation, telling me how difficult you work is and how your boss is a fucking cunt. She won't. Megan will not forgive you. Don't make her suffer. She's only 13. Take her for Ice Cream tomorrow, and talk about Dad. She won't admit it, but she misses him, even though she barely remembers him... Just, please, don't make her feel how I feel right now."

I turn to walk out of the kitchen. My mom's voice stops me in my tracks.

"Wow... you're right. You are 18... I haven't looked at you, really, for months. You look so much older... It's a 'he', huh? I guess I'm not too surprised. I've, hehh, it's funny, I've always wondered if you were gay."

"I'm not gay, mom. I think I'm Bi, but not gay. I still find myself staring at girls asses when they walk by in miniskirts. It's funny, when me and Kayle go to the mall, we play this game. 'See who can find the most 'attractive' girls the quickest.' And when we play this game, whoever loses has to go up and flirt with the girl, see how long it takes before she tries to go in for a kiss. I usually end up losing, buts that's on purpose."

"Heh... So you're leaving to New York... Tomorrow. Are you coming back? Will you phone?"

"I don't know, Mom."

"Tell Kayle that I know he'll treat you well..." I guess she put two and two together. Although, it was pretty obvious. I can't believe she's okay with this... She must be in shock. That's a lot of information to retain in just a few minutes... especially when your favourite glass is broken and your step-son just left for his first year of University.

"Honey, before you stomp out of here... you're not get into fights again, are you?"

"...What?" Fights? Where is this coming from? Especially after everything that I just said. Fights? Really?

"I haven't talked to you, but I have noticed, Drake. You would walk out at night, completely fine, during the summer, and then you'd come back in the morning with a limp, a bruise, sometimes a swollen lip. You have a bruise on your cheek right now. After your Dad died, you started getting into all those fights at school. I was so worried... But, you stopped, just like that. It was right around the time Josh and Walter moved in, remember? I could never understand the sudden change. But... just now, when you said that Josh was ignoring you, I put two and two together. Maybe the sudden change all those years ago was because of Josh. Someone was spending time with you and getting you out of trouble, just like your father did. I guess with nobody around to be with you, you act out and rebel with fighting... Josh is gone, he's been ignoring you, you've been leaving late at night, and come back with bruises. You're getting into fights again, aren't you?"

"... Yes." I say solemnly.

But, no, I'm not. But, fuck it. Might as well just say yes. We all know I'm a fuck up anyway.

"Drake, I'm sorry..."

"Don't be."

"Have a good life in New York..." She never turned to look at me after I tried to leave. She just stayed in her position, gazing at the garbage can. The broken remnants are still scattered on the floor.

"I do love you, Drake... I never meant to ignore you... I'm sorry for being an awful Mother this year. I really am... I love you, Drake, I love you..."

I don't reply.

The 'Dont be' is the last thing I say to her before I walk out of the house. In the distance, I can see large grey clouds forming, crawling towards me. I begin to walk, not really paying attention to where I'm going.

All I know is that it's going to rain tonight.

* * *

><p>Ennndd Chapter :)<p>

This one and the next Chapter were originally supposed to be together, but due to length, I had to cut it off here :/

Also, this one was easier then I thought it would be to write! (Which is always exciting for me ;p) I was just really excited for the confrontation between Mother and Son. But, I don't think a Mother would just let her kid walk out and go to New York, though. Nor, do I think (or hope, atleast) that a loving Mother would ignore her children due to work... There's a flaw! (haha, there's probably a lot of flaws with this, nahh well. I guess.)

Hope you enjoyed the Chapter!

Review :)


	11. Chapter 10

I almost didn't update today! Almostt! But, updates might be coming a little later than usual from now on. I hope that isn't the case, it just might happen :( BUT! I'm excited to update this one. It was originally supposed to be with Chapter 9. Due to it's length, I had to cut it off :( Hopefully everyone enjoys this one, though. It explains more about Drake's Dad :)

Disclaimer: I do not own Drake and Josh

* * *

><p>Josh's POV<p>

Tears are making their way down my face. I don't swear a lot, I don't believe they hold much purpose in life, and that there are better ways for displaying one's anger, but right now, everything is _fucked_ up. And it's all my fault.

My parents are both crying, blubbering messes, because I'm leaving for University. Megan has gone insane and non-Megan like, because I'm leaving. Mindy hates my guts, because I've been denying my feelings for Drake. And Drake hates my guts because I hate Kayle, I just _kissed_ him, and have been ignoring him for months, with the occasional deep conversation. The only reason he is with _Kayle_ is because I was ignoring him, just because I couldn't handle my feelings.

After Christmas Break, I started thinking. Everything was going to change. I was going to start my life. I was going to be separated from Drake. 'Drake&Josh', the single entity, would no longer exist. We would no longer have our little 'adventures'. I didn't want to think of that. I hated the thought of it. So, I thought that maybe, just maybe, if I spent time with Mindy, and separated myself from Drake, this drive to New Haven wouldn't hurt so much. Let me tell you something... it didn't help. It hurts way more then I could ever imagine. The lost months. I lost all of my time that I had left with him.

I realized soon after I was separating myself, that I was dreaming about _us. _Me and Drake. At first, it was us having our normal adventures. But, very quickly, it was no longer about having that, the dreams were filled with loving kisses, holding each other, being happy. Watching movies while eating popcorn. Together.

Mindy figured it out. The girl unfortunately has a brain bigger than Einstein, Newton, Mozart, Beethoven, Van Geoghe, Da Vinci and Gottfried Wilhelm von Leibniz all meshed together. It's really depressing. She figured it out, but she stayed with me. She tried to take the denial route, but I can tell that only made it worse...

I never imagined that Drake would suffer from depression, that he'd turn to new friends. I'm not surprised now, I guess, the kid needs attention. He needs someone to look after him. He's like a child. I just guessed that he's living the years that he lost after his Dad died and he had to be the parental figure for Megan, and the 'Shoulder To Cry On' for Mom. It must have been difficult. I always guessed that that was why he acted the way he did today. Ignorant, innocent without being innocent at all, egotistical... and an attention seeker. All the things that I learned to love about him.

Maybe it was all just a facade. The confidence could have very well been something to hide a loneliness that he had been feeling? Haha.. this is Drake Parker. The idea of Drake Parker hiding anything underneath his skin tight jeans, shirts and egotistical personality makes me laugh... but I can't help but believe that it's true.

The abuse with Kayle, though. Because of my repressed emotions, Drake ended up getting hurt, in more ways than one. It's all my fault. It is all my fault!

I continue to let the tears fall.

I drive by a small park, and I notice a figure on a bench, an Armani jacket clinging to his sides. He's smoking.

_Kayle._

Quickly, I turn the car into an empty parking space near the sidewalk, ignoring the loud honks from angered drivers behind me. I guess I forgot about the signal light... whoops.

I flick the engine off, and quickly exit the vehicle.

I stomp up the sidewalk, stopping just beside his sitting figure. He knows I'm here, but he doesn't face me.

"You hurt him, don't you?" I ask.

"..."

"Answer me, Kayle. I don't like you, you know that. Tell me the truth, talk to me, and maybe I won't hate you as much. Drake told me to give you a chance, so that's what I'm trying to do."

"You just said you hated me." He answers, smoke flying from his mouth. Dark clouds are lingering over our heads.

"Yes, and?"

"If you already hate me, you aren't really giving me a chance. You're setting me up for failure." Smart Alec. The kid is a smart alec. I am beginning to understand why Drake kind of likes him.

"But, if you're being truthful, Josh. I'll be honest. You're Drake's step-brother. He loves you, probably more than he loves me. I don't want you to hate me, hating me will only affect Drake negatively, which I don't want."  
>Damn it, he's good. He almost gets my sympathy. He almost gets me to believe him. Almost. I just can't trust him.<p>

"You don't like me, Josh. You don't have to. Just try to accept me being around Drake. He stresses out about you enough. It's cute really, actually... but- maybe you don't have to trust me, I don't expect you too, just try to trust Drake's judgement of being with me."

He knows just what to say and when to say it. He's like a freaking politician. I have said this many, many times to myself, but it's true! He just has that... face.

It's fake, I tell you, fake!

"I love your brother, Josh, I really do."

"Huh, that's funny. Because last time I checked, people who love each other don't _hit_ each other. And, oh, what happened last march? I do believe you r- " I yell in retort before he cuts me off.

"... I try not too... I have hit your brother though. I have, and it kills me more each time. I could kill myself just thinking that I've hurt him. He's lonely, though. I think killing myself isn't the answer, and would only hurt him more."

"Uh-huh. You just know what to say, don't you Kayle?"

"No. I have no friggin' idea what you want to hear. So, right now, I'm just speaking the truth." Kayle lifts himself from his position. He throws the cigarette onto the cement, stomps on it, putting out the embers.

"You promised you wouldn't hurt him!" I yell at him. "You gave him a promise ring. So tell me, why does he keep coming home with bruises? Why does he keep coming home limping? Why is he constantly flinching? Why do I hear him, Drake _fucking _Parker, whimpering and _crying_ in his bed at night, when he is IN his bed. It's a rarity as of late."

"I tried... And I am getting help... It's another reason why we're moving to New York. They have a great specialist who'll talk everything over with me. I can't hurt your brother anymore, Josh. A-and I never hurt him while I'm sober. He just shows up when I'm not! I try. I try so hard. It's just, his face contorts itself into my fathers, and I see Carol, bleeding and unconscious in the corner. I can't help it. I go into attack mode! I'm trying to get help, I really am. I don't ever want to make Drake feel the way I did. Never."

"It's too late for that, Kayle." I don't know what the hell he's talking about, therefore my voice contains absolutely no sympathy. His hands are gripped onto his head, his hairs entangling his fingers.

All I can picture is the blood on Drake's pants. The pants that he threw out into the garbage can that night. Coming home to him, crying and screaming, trying to clean something off of the floor. Knowing that this _Man_ in front of me put him into that position... I'll never forgive him. Drake might, but Drake is forgiving. I'm not.

Knowing that he's going to be living with him, the thought of it. It repulses me.

"For some stupid, insane reason, my brother loves you. I, for the life of me, cannot fathom why that is. But, I swear, if he ever calls me crying, begging for help, if the hospital calls my saying that he's in critical condition, or my parents phone me, saying that he's dead, I _will_ kill you."

"If that were to ever happen, Josh, I'd make sure that I'd pitch myself off of a bridge before you had the chance."

"Get fucking help. More help. Go to AA meetings, don't drink. Don't go to Parties. I'll be stressing out about school, about how my soon to be ex-girlfriend is doing, if my parents are paying attention to my step-sister. I don't want to be worrying about whether my brother is still alive or not."

"I'm trying..."

"Try harder, Kayle."

"I am. I really am trying. I'm getting help, for Drake."

"... Then... No. The only way you can get past.. your... umm... past... is if you do it for yourself. You can't get better if you're trying to do it for someone else and not for yourself. That is only setting yourself up for failure, and setting up more pain for Drake in the future."

"... It's 11:38, Josh. Aren't you going to be late arriving for your schedule?" He states, staring at his watch.

"Screw the schedule. I want to know that Drake will be safe. Promise me that he'll be safe, damn it."

"I can't..."

"Then get the fuck away from him."

"I can't..."

"I hope you go to hell."

"I do too, I deserve it. I've called him whore and a slut way too many times, he believes it now. I apologize every time, and he just laughs. But I know that he believes it. I forced him to believe it... It's verbal abuse. But his face... It makes me happy, when I see sadness and pain reach this eyes... it's fucking psycho... but I like the look of pain crossing Drakes face. It's the biggest turn on in the whole fucking world."

Hearing this, I punch Kayle on the side of the face, releasing only some of my anger.

"You fucking..."

I can't finish the sentence. There are no words in the English language to help express the way I am feeling. Instead, going against years of figuring out my beliefs when it comes to violence, I land another right hook on the side of Kayle's cheek. His face just turns slightly from the force, and he lifts his hand to red streak. He never even grimaces.

He stares at me, and I notice that his eyes are green... Weren't Drakes real Dad's eyes green? That same colour even?

"You really love him, don't you, Josh?"

"... I do. But he loves you now, Kayle. I lost my chance. You still have yours, though. I hate saying that. You've caused him enough pain, you don't deserve another chance... especially after saying something like that!"

"I'm sorry that I stole him from you. I knew that 'Drake&Josh' was some sort of calibre that was never supposed to be broken. I'm sorry."

"It was my fault in the first place. It's the entire reason he's with you. It's because of me." I confide.

"I guess I should thank you then." He says as he puts out palm towards me. I just slap it away.

"I'll kill you if you Thank Me, you son of bitch." Here I am, leaving for university at Yale, years and years of NOT swearing, just waving their little palms to me, goodbye... This is horrible, my vocabulary cannot, and I repeat, cannot, be decreasing now!

"... Drake's Dad died tomorrow, 9 years ago. He's going through some sort of Post Traumatic Stress episode right now, Kayle. Too much stuff is changing. He's losing it."

"What do you want me to do about it?" He asks me incredulously.

"You're his boyfriend of, what is it? 7 months? Help him..." It's starting to rain, the small drips are pitter pattering themselves on the cement. "Drake has never been that great at choosing his times to do things wisely. Find him. Make sure he's okay. I would do it, but like you said, I have to get to Yale on time. It's up to you now, Kayle. It is no longer 'Drake&Josh'. That's done now. Gone and past. It kills me, but I'm stepping out of the way, and you're going in now. It's now 'Drake&Kayle'... You don't deserve him. But he asked me to be happy for him ,and leave him be, so that's what I'm doing. I'm giving you my god damn support! I love him, more than anything. Just... please..." The tears on my face are mixing with the small rain drops. I know for a fact that Drake is outside, alone. Fuck...

"I'll find him, Josh. Don't worry."

"I am going to worry."

"I know..."

"I don't trust you."

"I know."

Shaking my head, I wipe the tear drops off of my face. "Have a nice fucking life, Kayle."

"You too, Josh, you too."

I turn to leave. But I can't just walk. I run towards the vehicle, getting out from under the rain. Running away from Kayle, who just took the life that I was supposed to have with Drake. He took it. He took all of it!

"I'll make sure he keeps in contact with you, Josh! I'll make sure of it!" Kayle yells at me.

Fuck... I hate crying like this. Sobbing. The tears, mixing with snot and rain, are crusting themselves onto my face. I don't wipe them off, though. Instead I just leave them be. It's imperfect, something that I've always tried not to be.

I hate that kid. He doesn't deserve what he has. He doesn't deserve any of it. Nasdaq. Money. Drake. Love.

No...

I don't deserve another chance from Drake. Love, or Friendship. It was my fault in the first place. It was all my fault.

* * *

><p>Drakes POV<p>

...

...

... Is it raining?

... I think it is...

I can't actually tell. Everything just looks blurry. Everything is covered in mist. A slight haze. I think I'm cold... am I shaking? ... Ya, I think I'm shaking...

The talk with my mother just drained me of any energy I had. I had to sit down after 20 minutes of sprinting. Maybe it was the sprinting that drained me of my energy?

... No, I know it was definitely the talk with my Mom.

I didn't tell her everything, just most of it. Everything that was important.

I didn't tell her how I have just spent the last 3 days locked in my room. Josh was packing, and getting ready to leave. Mom was preparing all of his favourite meals and Walter was spending as much time with Josh as he could, when Mindy wasn't there. Movie nights, miniature golf, dinners, movie nights. I stayed home, every day and every night, in my room, just in case they'd ask me to join. Just in case they'd talk to me.

I was leaving in only a couple of days. I had, at this point, spent practically the entire summer in Kayle's apartment. Days. Nights. It was rare if I was ever at home.

I wondered if they noticed. I wondered if they ever made dinner, and shouted up to my room, calling for me to come down. I wondered, and I wanted to know the answer. I was leaving. I told my Mom that I was leaving. She didn't notice. Never even fucking noticed that I was talking to her. So, like I said, I stayed home.

3 days. Alone. In my room.

I needed to know, that if I left for New York, they'd noticed. Did they call my name for dinner? What would happen if I didn't answer? Did they come check on me? Would they come check on me?

I just needed to know that I'd be missed when I left. I just needed to know that they'd notice that I wasn't there.

3 days. No one ever called me. For dinner. For the Movie Night with popcorn. For the day trip to the mall to pick up the rests of Josh's needed supplies. The game night. Breakfasts. They never called my name. They never talked about me. They never wondered where I was. Did they even know that I was in the house?

I still think that I could have just picked up and left, and that it'd take a year for my parents to even notice my disappearance.

"Oh, where's Drake?" They'd say. "When was the last time we even saw him? Last night? No need to worry, he's probably at a friend's house for the night. He's Drake, he'll be fine!"

He wouldn't be fine. Drake isn't fine. Not even now...

If it wasn't for Kayle, I'd probably be the closes thing to a living zombie that there ever was, by now. Depressed, begging for human touch and attention to keep me alive instead of blood, guts and brains.

The talk probably wasn't necessary for my Mother, but it was for me. I couldn't just pick up and leave. Especially after seeing Megan like that. I couldn't. They're still my family. Still the people who've raised me, been with me, and have had to suffer through everything that was 'Drake Parker'.

It's really is for the best that I'm leaving. Everyone will be happier. Megan probably doesn't see that now, but she will.

...** September 2****nd****, Drake... Septemeber 2****nd****... What's tomorrow, Drake? Do you remember what tomorrow is?** The voice whispers slowly to me. It loves to taunt me, make me suffer. But it's right.

No matter what I think, no matter what I'm trying to force myself to think, I just keep on getting reminded of the date. Today is September 2nd. Tomorrow. Tomorrow, 9 years ago, my life changed.

It changed. And I couldn't stop it. I tried to stop it. I tried to help. But, nothing I did worked. I tried, god damn it, I tried. Wasn't trying good enough?

He was an alcoholic. I rarely ever saw him without a bottle in his hand. The smell was excruciating. Nauseating. It was bitter, and I hated the sting it left when it filled the air in my nostrils. I can still smell it today. It was the smell of Dad.

Kayle swears that's why I drink. I forget the smell and the feelings, so I try to get myself as sloshed as my Dad... He says that my Dad was an alcoholic, and that increases my chances of being an alcoholic because it runs in the family...

I don't drink too much. At least, I try not to... Kayle usually stops me. After my 3rd or 4th glass when I begin laughing at everything, and begin falling off my seat, that's when Kayle intervenes. He's always there when I drink. And I'm always there when he drinks as well.

I wish I had a drink right now. It'd stop this feeling.

The ecstasy that I had in grade 9 at that one rave. It made me feel 10x better than anything alcohol could ever do. You were still sober, and you could think about the most depressing shit, and you could still smile. It just made me feel happy. I want to feel happy right now.

Happy... what is that even like? At the moment, I can't even remember.

I keep seeing my Dad.

His disfigured face. Blood, mixed with sweat, alcohol, and glass. I tried calling his name, but I could barely move as well. I remember that the seat belt kept me locked in my place. The arm that was needed to get me out of my seat, was dangling limply at my side. I couldn't move it. I tried, but I remember a severe pain just ran through my body.

My Dad was breathing. His eyes were fully open. He couldn't move though. I could see two of his teeth, covered with rust-like colour, just sitting on top of the dented dashboard.

I kept trying to call out to my Dad. Get him to help me. Get him to stop the pain. I couldn't move, couldn't he see that?

But he was bleeding as well. It just kept gushing out... I wanted to puke, I wanted to get out of that car. Everything hurt. It wasn't until after, when the Jaws of life had rescued us, that I even noticed that there was a small piece of glass, impaled in my chin.

I woke up in the hospital, my father was in ICU at this point. I remember that I was scared when I woke up alone.

We had been out, just the family, for dinner one night. I don't know why, I guess my Mom just didn't want to cook, but it was a decision that she still regrets today. It was her idea to go out. Her idea. She still feels guilty.

I don't know what restaurant we even went to, I just remember that my Dad was teaching me tips on how to pick up the cute waitress. We were laughing, and having a good time, hitting each other with my chicken strips. Mom was trying to force the food down Megan's throat... she was a bit of a picky eater and a stubborn child at the time.

Finally, Dad's first drink arrived... then his second... then his 3rd. By his 4th, Mom had left in anger. She hated seeing him drink so much in public, so she started yelling at him. She said something on the lines of 'his drinking was teaching me and Megan that being drunk as hell was okay'. She said that she hated it, so she took a sleeping Megan, and left in a cab.

My Dad gave me money to pay the waitress. I remember his hands were shaking, and that he could barely form sentences. I think that was why he gave me the money for the bill. He was severely wasted. But, it was normal seeing him like that. I didn't understand why everyone was giving us such nasty looks.

I gave the money to the cute waitress, and she gave me her number, saying that if my Parents ever needed a babysitter, she'd love to look after someone as cute as me. We never did call her.

My Dad had insisted on driving. He kept yelling that he was fine. Hell, he had never felt better!

I just remember driving on a deserted highway late at night. It was around 11:30, I was watching the passing trees that were going by my window, faster and faster.

I tried to keep calm, only saying my Dad's name every once in a while from fear. It didn't help.

He was crying. Against the streetlights from the roads, I could see the tears, dripping from his face. He was trying hard to hold them in, but he couldn't. He started screaming.

He began yelling out profanities. Saying how it was his Father's fault for letting him suffer. Saying how it was his Mother's fault for never paying attention. Yelling how it was his brother's fault for making him feel lonely. Yelling how it was his teacher's fault for giving him the horrendous scar on his cheek. Screaming how it was Pastor Johns fault. For everything. Pastor John was the reason my father was supposedly suicidal, the reason was father was supposedly depressed, the reason my father turned to drinking.

My father was screaming, saying how, even now, he couldn't escape him. He could still _feel_ the large hands, wrapped around his small body.

Suddenly, he stopped. The silence over took the car. That's what I remember. The silence as my father began to shake his head, mumbling. The rain, thudding down against the window. The trees were animatedly dashing across my window.

I tried calling my Dads name once more. He never turned to look at me. Instead, I just watched as he pressed the gas pedal, the accelerator-monitor-thing kept moving upward in a slow, semi-circle. 110... 113...118... 120...

I remember that a yellow sign had a large 80 on it. We were doing 50 over the speed limit, that is, until my father let go of the gas pedal, and stomped on the brakes.

He did it on purpose.

He flew us into a tree, making it so that he only had another 12 hours to live. I think we was happy. Even in his panicked state, I can never forget his Green Eyes. The ones that were usually so happy, and full of life, even when glazed over, they were dignified. At that moment, they were just full of fear, despair, pain, and... they were still dignified. He was still proud.

... I think it's raining.

I'm 18 years old.

Tomorrow is the 9th anniversary of the crash that Dad caused, the one that he forced me to witness and survive. The one he made me make sure never to tell, that it was really his decision. How it was really suicide, and not just some late night drunk driving.

My Mother suffered deep depression after that. She believed that it was her fault. She could never look at the scar on my chin. It reminded her that I was there, in the car with him... but it also reminded her of the scar on Dads cheek... It reminded her of Dad... it still does today.

I was her shoulder-to-cry on. Every night, I'd walk into her room, to her bed, the place where she'd lay all day, never moving. I'd just hold her. It was becoming easier as the months past, she was losing a lot of weight.

It never got to the point where me and Megan were starving, luckily, but still, I was only 9. I could barely even read.

Here I am, sitting on the wet ground. The damp grass, hovering over my legs.

Here I am, 9 years later. Still alive. I survived.

I saved everyone. I kept them alive.

... How do they repay me?

They ignore me for months. They pull pranks that almost cause me near-death experiences almost daily.

I saved their asses, without me, Megan would have spent days alone, by herself, and Mom would probably still be in the same, depressed state. I helped them...

But there was always, always that one person I could never save. The one person I could never help.

"That was you, Dad."

I run my hand over the engraved piece of rock that sits in front of me. I always hated knowing, whenever I came here, that I was standing right over top of him. He was facing upward when he was in the coffin, as usual. I hated knowing that he was always looking up at me. When I was small, I'd always look up at him. I hated the role reversal.

Still to this day, I can't help but think this.

His body is right underneath me.

The body I couldn't save. The body that I couldn't help, even with my shouts.

Maybe if I yelled louder. Maybe I screamed. Maybe if I told him that I loved him. Maybe if I hugged him. Maybe if I listened to him. Maybe if I did my homework when he asked, or did my chores, or helped feed Megan when he asked me to.

Maybe he'd still be here today, and everything that has happened so far, would just disappear, just like the writings of a pencil on a 50 year old letter.

"...Drake?"

Through the misty air, the rain continues to fall. I can feel it dripping from my hair.

I can see the silhouette, completely shaded by the falling rain and lack of sunlight, standing behind the grave.

He's tall. He looks kind.

He brings forth his hand, indicating that he wants me to take it.

From here I can still see his green eyes.

I take his hand, accepting it. He lifts me up, putting his large arms around my shivering form, shielding me from the rain.

... I couldn't save my Dad, but maybe I can save him.

"Come on, Drake. Let's go to New York."

* * *

><p>Chhappter done!<p>

I really enjoyed writing this chapter. I had a lot of ideas for Drake's dad, but I've read a lot of stories where he's evil. I kind of wanted to be different :p Even though, originally, he was supposed to be 'evil'. Unfortunently, I am not a huge fan of the Josh and Kayle conversation. To me, it seemed necessary, but mehh. It just doesn't really seem to flow... shmeahh!

Hope you enjoyed it!

Review! :)


	12. Chapter 11

Heyy! Well, damn, this one is a later update. I'M SORRY! I was away last weekend, shopping in Spokane for banquet/grad dresses (haha! I felt the need to say where I was since it's the place I made Kayle's parents live. I loled :p). Needless to say that I was successful, so excited! Anways... This chapter is... I dont even know how to explain. I can't believe where I'm heading with this. I'm a disturbed, I've realized.

And thanks everyone for the reviews! They always cheer me up :)

Disclaimer: I do not own Drake and Josh.

* * *

><p>3 months ago, I was in a car, driving from San Diego to New York. I don't think we even stopped for the night. We only stopped when necessary, and not a moment longer. To me, it felt like only 5 minutes went by before we pulled up next to our new basement suite. I hate the word 'suite'. It just gives off the feeling of marriage, and lots of money for romantic getaways. I mean, I'm all up for romance, maybe it's just the guy in me coming out. The guy who hates the word 'suite'... wait... 'suite'... sweet... 'suite'... sweet, holy shizznat, they're the same word! Ahahha...<p>

Anyways, getting back onto topic, I'm here... what's here? Well, I'll tell you. 'Here' is a freakishly huge mansion, even bigger and 100x more modern then Johnny's. I am sitting at an insannellyyy long wooden table, being waited on by girls with long curly hair in little black miniskirts. 'Here' is Kayle's bosses house on Christmas Eve's Eve, with a large group of Nasdaq workers.

Yes, that's right. It's December 23rd, my first ever Christmas with actual snow. No one can even begin to understand how excited I am.

Kayle can kind of tell, 'kind of' being the key word. "_It's just snow. It's rain, frozen water. And it's cold. And when it gets to March, and you still have to shovel the driveway after school, you learn to hate it." _He just doesn't understand! I haven't played in it yet. I haven't had a snowball fight, or made a snowman, or gone snowboarding, or had hot chocolate near a fire after shovelling! Kayle said that most of those things we'd do on Christmas Day, just to make it more special. But I want to play in it nowwww! It looks so white!

Obviously, living alone has not decreased my immaturity!

"Care for another glass of Dr. Fizz with Rye, Drake?" Vince Mortella, Kayle's Boss, asks me from the head of the head of the table. He looks like a tall, bald-headed Joe Pesci. Except larger. And he has a way deeper voice.

"Oh, I think I'm good Mr. Mortella, don't want to get too tipsy while here. I would hate to embarrass myself" I laugh.

Mr. Mortella gives a wide smile. "Ahh, don't worry about it, Drake! It's Christmas, and Christmas is the time to be cheery and make memories! Cynthia here would be more than happy to occupy you."

Cynthia, a tall girl with cherry blonde hair walks over to me, winking. "So, a Dr. Fizz with Rye, was it?" She asks, leaning down to my height. I turn to her, whispering "How about just a Dr. Fizz, no Rye. Just don't tell the boss man down there, kay?"

She gives a small smile. "It'll be our little secret." She lets her breast slide slowly against my shoulder, the smell of strawberries lingers as she walks away.

Somebody is desperate.

Kayle is on the opposite side of the table, facing me, and is currently playing footsies with my left foot. He saw the entire interaction between me and Cynthia, and is trying his best to not die from laughter.

It is almost Christmas, so of course there would be Christmas songs, blasting from the stereo for background entertainment.

Looking at the large plate of food in front of me, a perfectly cooked turkey, potatoes, cranberry sauce, corn and everything else that can be defined as Christmasy, I can't help but wonder about my own family. I promised Megan that I'd be home for Christmas. I wonder how Middle School is going for her. Does she have a boyfriend?

I called home last week, wondering if I was allowed to visit during this 'Very Happy Holiday'. I left a message with my number, but no one ever phoned back. Maybe they will on Christmas Day? I hope so, I miss them.

I wonder if Josh is with them. I wonder if Josh is still with Mindy. How's Yale? What courses is he taking. How is his roommate? Does he have a roommate? Is he the top of his class, like I thought he would be. I miss him. He's my step-brother... who claims he's in love with me... Let's forget that. He's still my brother.

"Here's your Dr. Fizz with Rye, Mr. Parker." Cynthia has returned with my drink, and I can see that she seems to have more lip gloss on then when she left. And her button up blouse has been unbuttoned by two. The 'two' were restraining her voluptuous breasts from our sights. 'Were' being the keyword. Hmm, it's a black bra, and lacey...

Yup, she's desperate.

"Thank you very much, Cynthia." I say, trying to act nonchalant.

"No, thank you, Mr. Parker." She bats her long, blackened eye-lashes at me once more. A year ago, this type of thing would have been the biggest turn on. Now? ... Not so much. It's still hot, I just don't want to be the one to knock off her desperation.

"Ahhh, I see Cynthia has taken a liking to you, Drake!" Mr. Mortella shouts from the end.

"So you noticed too!" I retort. Cynthia acts unfazed by this and gives a loud giggle, blaring her bleached white teeth to all.

Everyone, with a large amount of alcohol in their systems, begins to laugh at my comment.

Yes, it is Christmas. A time to be cheery and make memories.

* * *

><p>"So, Drake-" Mr. Mortella begins. All the other guests and household staff have left. Including Cynthia, Thank god.<p>

Kayle is currently on the large, leather couch, falling asleep... Actually, I think passing out would be a better word.

"Poor guy, it was a stressful week at work." Mr. Mortella explains. I just nod my head. It was definitely a stressful week. Apparently, most of the stocks that Kayle invested our money into all went down. We lost a lot of money. I don't know exactly how much, though.

Mr. Mortella seems to senses my oncoming anxiety at the thought of having no money, so he switches the subject. "You're a musician, correct?"

"Yes, that's right."

"Any albums, or upcoming albums that I should know about?" He grabs his glass of scotch from a small maple table beside him and inhales it all in one gulp.

"Actually my Debut Album came out on December 15th. It's doing okay. Not too great, but not too horrible as well. All I care about is that, hey, at least I'm finally making some money." I say, clasping my hands together.

"What? Does Kayle not make well enough for the both of you?"

"Kayle? He makes way too much for the both of us. But, I feel bad using his money all the time. I think that I need to be somewhat independent, right?"

Mr. Mortella just smiles.

A groaning can be heard from the leather couch. Kayle begins to twitch slightly, before turning around, pressing himself more into the couch for warmth.

"Mmmph... Mafeeble kayy, nay do! Ta haaa..." Kayle mumbles and laughs. I swear, that boy was never supposed to speak English.

"How about we give Kayle here some privacy." It's not really a question but more of a command as Mr. Mortella stands up.

"How about I show you the house?"

* * *

><p>We walk up the large staircase and enter Mr. Mortella's master bedroom, where he grabs himself another glass of scotch and takes a seat on a small couch.<p>

"Listen, Drake, I know Kayle. I have ever since he was a boy. Me and his Uncle Dave are best friends, have been ever since business school. Sure, Dave can be a douche when he's going all boss on me, but he's still my best friend. Since Kayle means a lot to Dave, I make sure to look after Kayle, as well as his interests, which at the moment, is you."

I nod, walking over to a small chair in the corner. Instead of answering, I just sit down and listen.

"As I said, this week was not a good week for the stock markets. Everyone who's anyone lost a little bit of money. Kayle, unfortunately isn't anyone. As you probably know, he lost a lot. I want to help him. So, I'm giving you an offer."

There is a slight lustful tone in his voice, but I choose to ignore it. "An offer?" I ask incredulously.

"A job offer, to be more exact. You need money, am I correct?" We are in desperate need of money. I don't know how much we need, all I know is that we need money, but then again, who doesn't? Along with his lustful tone, a glimmer emerges in his eyes. It's small, but there. It's creeping me out.

"What kind of job offer, Mr. Mortella?" I inquire.

"Well, Drake, I'll be frank with you-" ... I really wish I knew what 'frank' meant.

"-You are a very good looking boy. I know many, many people who would love to have you for a couple of hours."

My breath is pushed out of my body by an invisible force. "What ... exactly... do .. you mean by that?" My voice trembles along with my chin. Please don't let this be what I think it is. Please don't let this be what I think it is.

"Well, I mean, there are those types of men who are not... hmmm, how should I put this... 'pleased' by their partners, and need to find an outlet by paying an incredibly attractive youth such as yourself."

I jump out of my seat as soon as these words hit my ears.

"You want me to sell my body?"

"People would be willing to pay a lot." Mr. Mortella walks to the other side of the room. He touches a golden frame of a painted picture lovingly, before taking it down completely. I can see that hiding behind it is a silver safe. With his chubby hands, he begins to turn to lock.

_Click... Click... _

_..._

_Click..._

He opens it swiftly, bringing out a large stack of cash. He looks psychotic, eyes wide and pupils dilated, while looking over the money. Closing the safe, he walks over to me, and pushes the cash towards my chest. I take it, trying to ignore how heavy it is.

As its within my grasp, I can see that all of the bills are fifties.

"That is 5,000$, Drake. All of it can be yours, if you take my offer." He says. Grinning once again.

"... I won't do it, Mr. Mortella. I... I can't. No way!" I drop the pile of cash on the floor and head to the door, little meaningless papers flying everwhere.

"Too bad, I know that Kayle is desperate for money. From what I heard, you lost all of the money he made just 2 days before this month's rent needed to be in. If you don't get it in before January 1st, you're going to be evicted."

I stop immediately, my hand clenching on the door handle, turning it white.

"We handed in this months' rent. I have no idea what you're talking about." I say. Truthfully, I don't think it's any of his god damn business, either, if we handed in our rent late or not.

"Too bad. Too bad. Just ask Kayle, maybe he'll know." Vince beings to laugh menacingly. It's the type of laugh that'll haunt you in your nightmares long after you're dead. I leave the door open as I fly down the stairs, escaping that god awful room.

What has this world come to?

I reach the living room, where Kayle is snoring loud enough to wake the hibernating bears.

"Kayle! Kayle, it's time to go." Grabbing his shoulders I begin to shake him as hard as I can.

"Come on, Kayle. Wake-" I lift palm in the air. "Up!" And I let it slide harshly across his face.

"I-uh-I... Wha.. OWWWW! Jesus Christ, Drake! What the hell! Wa-was I asleep?" He asks, a hand on the reddening mark on his face.

"Umm, ya. You were having a nightmare, Kayle." I lie to him. His head turns to me and I can see comprehension in his eyes. "Ohh..."

"It's late, maybe we should go home. Mr. Mortella is already in bed." I say again, grabbing Kayle's arm and lifting him off the couch

"Drake, I told you. Call him Vince."

"Okay then, Vince is already in bed. It's 2 am in the morning, and I'm really tired. So let's go!" I say just a little too loudly.

"... Drake, are you alright?" Kayle stops us just as we reach the large door way.

Without turning around, I just say that I'm completely fine, and that I must be buzzed or something from the alcohol.

Kayle sighs, grabbing his jacket.

"Thanks Vince for dinner! Have a good Christmas!" Kayle yells towards the staircase. The sound of his voice being so kind sickens me.

I turn and just stare at him, stunned.

"What? I have to thank him! He invited us for dinner! It would be rude just to leave!" Kayle laughs, grabbing my arm, finally allowing us to leave the mansion.

* * *

><p>When we walk into our basement suite, Kayle lunges for the couch.<p>

It's a tiny space, but perfect for two people. As soon as you walk in, you're in the living room, which has a small T.V, a table, one chair, Kayle's couch from the 1970's, and a very ugly blue rug on the floor. After that is the kitchen. Normal, white. The fridge is too small, though. Beyond that, is a hall which holds a closet for the vacuum, the bathroom, and the bedroom is at the far end. See, pretty small... It is definitely not worth 1,300$ a month.

"... umm, Kayle? I need to ask you something." After what Vince Mortella said about us not getting our rent in, I'm wondering. Last month was my turn to put our money in. This month was Kayle's turn. So, I don't actually know if Mr. Mortella was lying or not.

"Mmmph, ya, Drake?"

"... Vince said that we're going to get evicted because the stocks went down two days before the rent was due..." I take a deep breath, hoping that the truth is what I wish to hear.

"Is that true?" Tension fills the air almost immediately. I can feel sweat beginning to form on my forehead. This is not going to be good.

Kayle takes a deep breath, and lifts himself into a sitting position. His hands are clutched together, and placed neatly on his knees.

"Maybe you should sit down, Drake."

"It's true, isn't it?"

Kayle doesn't answer, he just turns his head away.

"...well, what about the money from my album? Maybe we could use that!"

"... It's gone, Drake."

"What?" I yell. Luckily, the people above us consistently watch gory films, and play loud, violent war games. They can never hear anything me and Kayle do. It means we can be as loud as we want, whenever we want.

"What little money you got from your album is already gone. I used it in the stocks."

My legs are becoming jelly beneath my weight. Kayle was right, I do need to sit down.

"I'm sorry..."

I sit on the floor due to my trembling. "... how much money do we have left?"

"... 200 bucks."

I have no idea of how to respond. Do I act nice, even though I'm seething? Do I get angry and yell, showing him that I'm seething? Although if I do that, that might only end badly for me...

"So, we're going to get evicted?" I ask, scared at the thought of having no home for a while during the winter months.

"Unless we can magically make 1,500$ appear, we are screwed."

My hand runs through my hair, and loud sigh escapes my lips. "... Why do we need an extra 200 dollars, Kayle?" I ask, trying to get my thoughts anywhere other than the possibility of being homeless.

"We need to eat, Drake. You might be gaining, but I'm losing weight like fuck."

... What the... Is he seriously talking about my weight now?

"Kayle!" I yell. "I haven't fucking gained. I've actually lost as well since we started living here. 7 pounds to be exact. Why is that even an issue?"

"Wow, Drake. Keeping a record of your weight now? You're really turning into a girl. Next thing I know, I'll be sleeping with someone who has earrings, a belly button ring, and asking how their make-up looks or if that dress make their butt look big. Fuck! I need to sleep." Kayle spreads himself back onto the couch, completely exhausted.

"Fuck you, Kayle."

"Fuck me? Fuck you, Drake. You're the one who started talking!" He mumbles bitterly from underneath the sofa cushion.

"I started talking because we've lost money, and I didn't know how much. And then I find out that we're going to be evicted! When were you even going to tell me about this? And why the hell are you getting mad at me? It isn't even my fault. And I, for one, do not want to be lying out on the street while it's snowing!"

"Well, if you're so keen on not getting evicted, why don't you make yourself useful and get out there and make some money. Use your one talent, and get us money."

"My one talent? What the fuck, Kayle. How much have you had!"

"I just had 3 glasses of tequila."

"Jesus... And I have been using my _'one talent'_, you know that. Unfortunately all of the 'safe' bars and clubs are completely scheduled for the next few weeks." I scream in retort.

"I'm not talking about your music. I'm talking about your talent, or should I say hobby. Why don't you get out there and be the true slut that you really are. People can pay for that, y'know." He muffles tiredly yet again.

I take deep breath at what has just been said. I've been trying so hard to change. When I came to New York, I promised to change myself from "Drake Park – Man Whore" to "Drake Parker – Not Man Whore". Okay, I'll admit, it isn't the greatest title, but you get the idea, right?

And anyway, maybe it's just the alcohol talking? Kayle gets especially mean when he's had tequila. The comments don't hurt any less, though.

Shaking my head in my hands, anger is running through my system. When I'm angry, I do stupid things. For example, like what I think may happen next. "You know what? Maybe I will!" I scream, grabbing the keys near my feet. See, that was a stupid thing to say, because that was a silent dare to myself to go ahead and _do it_...

"What the fuck? Drake, where are you going?" Kayle yells from the couch.

Sliding from my seat on the ugly blue carpeted floor, I turn to walk out of our apartment, completely determined to get back to Mr. Mortella's.

When I reach outside, I realize that I forgot my coat. Oh well, I guess. Instead of fretting about the cold, I grab my cell phone, calling Vince's number. Kayle gave it to me shortly after we moved, saying that if he ever got lost, Mr. Mortella would be able to find him before I even got the chance to ask "Have you seen Kayle?"

"Uh... Hello?" A tired voice answers after 3 rings.

"... Mr. Mortella? It's Drake..."

"Ahhh, Drake. What can I do for ya, kiddo?" He asks as if he already knows. I can already see his devious toothy smile beginning to glare.

"I accept your offer..." I say monotonously.

"Ahhh, so I'll be getting my Christmas present early this year, I see?"

I choose not to respond. According to the fact that I'm outside, alone, I let my shudder be seen by the unmoving objects on the road. This is it. I have officially fucked everything up...

"...Who's the customer?" I ask, trying to remain uninterested.

"... Me."

* * *

><p>Chappttter done.<p>

This isn't my strongest chapter, oh well. I've been trying to fix it to the point where I kind of actually like what I'm writing, that isn't happening :p But, one of my friends always say that you're officially an 'artist' when you hate your work :p

Again, can't believe where I left that off, slight cliffhanger :p Will Drake go through with it? Or will he NOT go through with it? ... I'm disturbed that the theme of prostitution is even IN this story! I'm a disturbed individual... NEXT CHAPTER! oh lord...

Review :)


	13. Chapter 12

I hope everyone had a great Halloween! I barely had any kids come to my house, and my mom loves to buy a crap load of candy :( Anyways, I have rewritten and rewritten and rewritten this Chapter. I just couldn't get it the way I wanted to... And I've given up on the dream of having unique disclaimers.

Warning: After the events of last Chapter, this is pretty obvious (sorry, I really don't to write the actual words!), language... yaaa... I'm sorry.

Disclaimer: I do not own Drake and Josh

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><p>I can't believe I'm doing this. I can't believe I'm doing this. I can't believe I'm doing this.<p>

I've parked the car in front of the mansion, and I can't get out. The drive over here was silent, save for the few swear words that crossed through my head...

The car is parked... in the driveway... inside the car it's warm... and I don't want to get out.

I can see Mr. Mortella, standing in the lightened doorway, arms crossed, waiting for me. His face holds a smile that reminds me of a hungry leopard, seconds away from enjoying the taste of blood across his lips.

Without a second thought, I grab the keys from the ignition, and exit the warmth and safety that is my car. I feel the crunch of the snow beneath my feet. All of a sudden, the cold snow doesn't hold the same excitement for me.

"Well, Drake. I wasn't expecting you to call so soon. Was I right about Kayle? Hmm? Come on in, let's talk about it." He's holding the same, sickening smile.

I glide up to the doorway gracefully and enter, side stepping Mr. Mortella. I refuse to look at him.

"Ahhh, not talkative, huh. That's alright. Business is business I guess. Let's get up to the room then."

I can feel my stomach flipping at the thought. The acid is tearing the tissues as it makes its way up my throat. I'm about to be sick.

Mr. Mortella puts a hand on my back and escorts me to his 'Master Suite'. Blehh. "Suite'. Suddenly, the word is 10x worse than it was only a few hours ago.

He enters the dark room, puts his hand on the light switch, but then takes it away quickly.

"No. No light tonight. It'll be more kinky, I think." He whispers lustfully, just a centimetre too close to my ear for comfort...

He grabs my hand and drags me towards the bed, placing me forcefully onto the comforter.

"Now, let's get you out of those clothes." He says, beginning to unbuckle the black piece of leather that lays on my hips. I stay quiet, and keep my face completely calm. The only emotion I show is reminiscent of pure boredom.

_... I wonder how Josh is. I can still see his black hair, falling in front of his eyes, telling me about the inflatable snowman that he bought for Christmas. The same snowman that, only moments later, Megan would send flying through all of San Diego. Josh was running closely behind, trying to grab it's thick string. He never did tell me, but I later heard that Josh followed it all the way down town... until the snowman left the area of San Diego that has actual ground, and meeting up with the waving waters. Poor Josh. He never did have good luck._

Mr. Mortella moans above me, bringing me out of my thoughts. "Mmmph, god, I was correct, you are quite a handsome lad." He lays a hand on my, now, bare chest, and lays me down against the pillows. His lips following closely.

_... What about Megan? Does she have a boyfriend? I hope not, because then my inner radar didn't go off. That would mean that I lied. Bad things happen when I lie to Megan, even if it's unintentional. She'd know that it wasn't intentional, right? Before I left, I overheard her saying that she was growing out her hair for graduation from Middle School to High School. It's only been 3 months, it's probably a little longer, but I wonder how long her hair is now. 3 months probably wouldn't have that much of an effect, but my hair is longer, so maybe hers is too? _

I can feel Mr. Mortella's hands leading themselves down my waist to inner thigh. He lips are beginning o nip at my neck. Even though I'm about to toss my lunch, I know that my face remains emotionless. For once, I am in complete control of my emotions.

_... haha, yahh. My hair is a bit longer. I am in need of a severe hair appointment. It's not long, I wouldn't be mistaken for a girl or anything, but my bangs are half way down my face. They are annoyyyingg. I have to part them in the middle, instead of letting them just fall neatly over my forehead, which is the style that I like. It's easy to control._

His hands have grabbed my thighs, parting them. He's positioning himself. This man can work wonders, apparently. How the hell did he take my clothes off without me even realizing? Nnghh...

_... What about Mindy? Is she the top of her class, like Josh? ... Or, at least, like my idea of Josh being the top of his class? I wouldn't doubt it if she had 100%. She cloned her own dog. Not even top notch scientists could recreate her time machine. They tried to follow Mindy's blueprints after the CIA decided that having a working cloning machine held too much of a threat to civilization, therefore it had to be euthanized. _

I guess being in a homosexual relationship has its advantages. As of right now, stretching me isn't a huge, huge issue. Thank god, cause' I don't believe Mr. Mortella thought of that...

_... Dad probably wouldn't be too proud of me. Nor would Walter, now that I think about it. Walter has been in my life for 6 years. I've always felt bad that I could never look at him like a father. I could never call him father. I know he regretted never creating a lasting relationship with me. Maybe he felt that didn't need to?_

"Oh! Oh, Yes! Yes!" The man continues to moan.

_... Kayle probably wasn't expecting this when he drank his tequila and told me to be the slut that I really am. I guess this just officially makes me a whore, by the definition in the dictionary, anyway. I remember one time, in detention, Mrs. Hayfer asked me what 'whore' meant. I thought it was just someone who had a lot of sex, so that's what I said. Mrs. Hayfer then asked me for the dictionary definition. I said I didn't know the dictionary definition. She gave me a dictionary and told me to look it up. I did, and once I found it (who knew that 'whore' started with 'W'!) I gave her the dictionary definition. She just looked at me, smiling. I think she brought it up because her daughter had just broke up with me two days before, and I was already holding down two different relationships, with a potential third. I never forgot the definition. A prostitute. One who is considered to have compromised principles for personal gain. I remember that after she forced me to look up the definition of 'whore', I gladly looked up the word 'bitch'. I laughed loudly, Mrs. Hayfer said she hated me. It was a pretty normal day._

"Yes! C-c-continue making th-that face! Oh god! Yes. Moan. C'mon! Moan, groan, scream!" At this point I do whatever he asks.

_... My album didn't do too great. Only a couple thousand Cd's sold. Trust me, it sounds like a lot, but it really isn't. I wish it sold more. If it sold more then maybe we'd have money. If we had money, there wouldn't be any problem for an eviction. Nick Mateo said that it was alright, that it was usual. He said that next album will sell better for sure. I wish that were true. I wish that I knew that there would BE a 'next album'. I wish._

"God! T-this is so hot! I-I'm close! I-I'm close! Aaaahh!" I feel him reach his peak inside of me.

... _ Would this be considered as cheating? Would this be considered cheating on Kayle? But, I'm doing this for Kayle. If it weren't for him and the stupid stocks, I wouldn't be here. I'm fucking someone. It doesn't even feel like I am fucking some asshole, though. Sex usually feels like something. No matter how horrible or good it is, you always feel something. Why can't I feel anything now? I'd rather feel absolute pain or guilt then nothing. When you feel nothing, it means that you've lost all hope. It means that you've given up. I learned that after my Dad died, and my Mom wouldn't get out of bed... I'm fucking Kayle's boss... so we won't get evicted. I'm fucking somebody else, so I can remain living with Kayle. Would that be considered as ironic? I don't know. Mrs. Hayfer always said that I never knew the correct meaning of the word. I miss school. I miss. 'I miss' is a feeling. That's a good sign... I think._

"God! that was fucking amazing. You just complied and took it. You just let me do whatever I wanted.. needed. Oh god."

_... on the ceiling there are 54 boxes outline thingies. 54. On each box there are 4 outlines... 54 x 4 = 266. There are 54 boxes and 266 outlines. Or would it be 54 x 3 + 4... does that make sense? X + Y = Z... everyone said that I would use that formula everyday in my natural existing life, I haven't yet. Everyone, everyone being my teachers, lied to me. Math sucks._

"... Your money's on the table beside you... You okay, kid? ... Yes? Good, get off the fucking bed."

_... Gary got into a school in Canada. The school was in a place called 'Mississauga'. Haha, Mississauga. What kind of name is that? Mississauga. Mississauga. Mississauga. Miss-sisssss-sawwww-GWAH! Maybe it's Chinese. I think it's Chinese because of the 'GWAH!' at the ending... I wonder how ol' Gary is doing._

I hastily jump off the bed and grab my clothes, tearing them on before anything can be said. With shaking fingers, the money is lifted into my arms.

I can't see him, but I know that under the covers of the bed, Mr. Mortella's naked body is there. I never saw it once. Never once. I still can't. I refuse. I know that he is still smiling that demonic smile, too. He bit his prey, and he liked what he tasted.

I need to get out of here.

"If Kayle ever loses all of his money right before the rent needs to be paid, _again, _please, Drake, come to me. I'll be more than willing to help you both out. Just say the magic words, and I'll be there. Helping."

Now.

* * *

><p>When I limp into the small basement suite, I see Kayle, standing in the kitchen, staring down at the phone longingly. For the first time since I left, I grab my phone from my pocket. 5 text messages and 7 missed calls. All from Kayle.<p>

Kayle's head lifts up from his worried trance, taking in my silhouette that's standing in the open doorway.

He immediately throws himself out of the kitchen and begins walking towards me. I guess he takes in my pathetic look, and money, and stops.

I can hear a small sob escape my throat.

"Drake..." He whispers.

And that's all it takes. Slamming the door completely shut with a loud bang, I throw myself at Kayle, wrapping my arms around his waist.

I am not going to cry. I am not going to cry. I don't need to cry. I'm being serious. It's weird. I feel this awful sickness in the pit of my stomach, I'm incredibly guilty, I swear that I'm about to throw up, stress is causing my shoulders to ache and shake, and I'm paralyzed, yet I don't need to cry. That is probably a good thing. Josh might say different, but right now, I think that me not being able to cry is a good thing.

"... Drake? What happened?"

Kayle's arms make their way around my shoulders, bringing me closer to his body. I can feel his neck turn, and a deep sigh as he sees the filthy lucre scattered across the floor.

"Ohhhh, Drake. This is all my fault. Oh god, I am so sorry. I just had to have that one glass of tequila didn't I? I just always have to have that one glass of tequila." His voice cracks against my forehead, lips pressing into my sweat stained hair.

Instead of answering him and saying that it was 3 glasses, not one, I just snuggle into the warmth. Maybe the warmth will stop my trembling.

"Fuck..." Kayle's hot breath falls down my neck. Tightening his grip, he begins to shuffle back to the bedroom, forcing my feet to follow.

He turns off all the lights, and shuts the bedroom door, all the while still holding me in his arms.

He brings us towards the bed, lying us down and dragging the duvet over our bodies. Our clothes are still on.

I can feel Kayle's hand, slowly massaging my kneecap.

"...Kayle?" I ask.

"Shhh, Drake. It's alright."

His hand remains on my knee, holding onto it for dear life. I glance towards Kayle's face, and am only able to see his bright green eyes, looking at me as if I am his whole world.

"... Kayle?"

"Shhh, Drake. Don't worry. Everything is alright." He brushes the bangs out of my face gently.

And for the first time in almost a year, Kayle is the one holding me in a panicked state. It's not the other way around. Nothing else happens, except the squeezing of his arms around my waist when memories began to surface. Nothing else happens, except for a loving embrace.

Kayle's soft snoring begins to lull me to sleep. It doesn't put away any of my stress, though. He forgave me, he told me he did. But, I don't believe him.

There's no way he could forgive me. I can't forgive myself for even going through with it.

I can't, and I probably never will.

A year ago is when everything began going to shit. A year ago.

A year ago I still had my brother. He would get me out of this situation. He probably would have knocked me unconscious before I did anything _that_ stupid. But, now, I did go through with it, and I feel like a right bastard for it. Would Josh have anything to say to make me feel better? He used to always know what to say. But this is just completely over the line.

I sold my body so I wouldn't be evicted. I don't think Josh would have anything to say to that. I think he would just shake his head mournfully at me...

... Why am I wondering what Josh would say to me right now?

Josh... I miss him.

* * *

><p>Wow, for once a slightly shorter chapter... Damnit. I LOVE fan fics that are short, sweet and are still amazing! I can't figure out how the hell they, the authors, do it! (Talent) :p<p>

And this one felt a bit rushed just because I was uncomfortable with portraying this topic. I tried to stray away from it, I did! My mind just wouldn't allow me too :( Truthfully, I still feel a little queezy about the fact that I did include it... I prefer the next Chapter A LOT more. Until next Saturday!

Review :)


	14. Chapter 13

Update, yay! So... this one is still pretty angsty, not as angsty as the last two, but ya... :( Next Chapter isn't though! Shocker, thats a first! haha :p But, this goes back to my looonnggg chapter style of... writing? ... fuck. I am so sorry, you poor readers. It's so long. And probably filled with grammar mistakes... Shmeahhh

Disclaimer: I do not own Drake and Josh

* * *

><p>2 years and 8 months. 2 years and 8 months. What is 2 years and 8 months? Well, I'll tell you. Today is Kayle and mine's 2 year and 8 month anniversary. But really, who's counting? Kayle probably doesn't even know.<p>

We have been living in New York now for a little over 2 years. And in those 2 years, I still have not contacted or seen my family. After last Christmas staying up near the phone all night, and after I left my 8th message, I've given up. I've given up on pretending like they care.

Kayle has stopped gambling our money in the stocks. Well, he hasn't 'stopped' per say, but he doesn't put so much away as he did. Needless to say, we have never had another 'eviction' scare... or at least I don't believe we have...

I wish I could say that things are looking up. I wish I could say, that after me and Kayle moved from our small basement suite to our new apartment, everything changed. I wish I could say that Kayle stopped drinking, or at least cut down on his drinks at night. I wish I could say that he stopped partying. Partying was never an issue in San Diego, but there are a lot worse parties here in NY. The ones that are in the bars and dance clubs. They are much more addicting.

Drugs are passed around like candy at a kids birthday party. Kayle, unfortunately, would be the one annoying child who tries to grab as much candy as he can, without anyone else noticing, and eating it all by himself.

Things are still great in mine and Kayle's relationship, don't get me wrong! I love the guy, it's just becoming a little bit of a nuisance buying foundation and a shitload of cover up every 3 weeks to hide the small scratches and tiny bruises.. Not to mention, having to actually go _into _the store. I usually go to Nordstrom... and have 5 girls attack me as soon as I walk in. They always say that I am the sweetest boyfriend, buying make-up for my girlfriend. I sold them that lie when I bought a necklace with a heart that said Melissa in the middle. I did it so they would stop pestering me about my sexuality. As soon as I left the store that day, I threw that damn thing in the trash.

Thankfully summer has ended, so I don't have to try and be a hideaway inside, anymore. I can walk freely on the concrete, bundled up in an excess amount of clothing.

The bruises and scratches are tiny! It's just that there are quite an array of them, so much as one might become concerned if they look close enough. Thankfully, I live in New York, the place where no one pays to much attention to strangers.

Here, I really am a nobody.

Oh yah, Nick Mateo, still president of Spin City Records, called me the other day. He is the only one from my old, San Diego life that I have heard from within the past two years.

I haven't been sending in songs, and I've given up on a second album. After the failure of the last one, along with the infamous amount of pessimistic reviews, I've decided to take a new route in life... I don't know what route that is yet, due to fact that I haven't chosen it, but I'm sure it'll be good!

Wow, I'm getting off topic, aren't I? Nick Mateo called and said that he's coming to New York, scouting some new talent, I guess. He asked if I wanted to go for coffee. My answer was undoubtedly 'Yes!'

This would lead to where I am now. In a small cafe that is unknown by tourists, and is very much loved by locals. Pretty much, it's the best kind of cafe there is.

Nick relaxes in his chair and sips his black coffee that only makes him hiss in discomfort.

"Ow. Damn that's hot." He mutters dissatisfied.

I laugh quietly, crossing my legs in my chair to become more comfortable.

We're sitting outside, since today has been somewhat nice and incredibly sunny.

I grab my tea and begin stirring it with a stir stick that I picked up at the condiments table.

I don't really have an appetite for food or liquid. My stomach is too knotted for that.

... 2 nights ago, Kayle had 4 shots of Tequila, and 2 glasses of Chardonnay Wine. In a rage, he thought I was his father and grabbed a wooden chair. Ever since, my stomach hasn't allowed any kind of contents to remain inside of it, which makes me weary of drinking this tea now. Throwing up on Nick Mateo would not be a great reunion, nor would it be a thing to laugh about in 5 years, even if it was just tea.

"So, how are you, Drake?" He asks, staring down at his coffee. I wish I could just pretend that I didn't hear the worry in his tone.

"I'm great, Nick." I reply quickly. "What about you? How's the company going?"

Nick sighs sadly. "It's great, Drake. We're making more money now than ever."

I nod my head, smiling. "Oh yah. You have, like, 3 main stream artists now, don't you?"

"Yes we do."

I laugh, because there is no other reaction that I can muster to express my feelings. "Well, I am happy to hear that, Nick. I'm sorry that you couldn't find them earlier, though. You wouldn't have wasted so much of your time on me!"

Nick looks up to me in a state of shock, catching the sincerity in my sentence. His eyes are looking at me regretfully. "No, Drake. We never wasted anything on you. And don't ever think that. You were, no, you _are_ talented, and we'd give everything we have to bring you back into the company."

I give a small, unbelieving laugh. It can't be true. It's all a lie. I know it. Nick is lying through the thick of his teeth to make me feel better. "Yaa, sure..."

Nick puts down his coffee and latches onto my hand that was creating patterns on the table with its fingertips.

"Are you still with that one boy?"

Turning my head away from him, I can see a family over to my right. There are two parents, and two children. One boy about 5 and one girl that looks to be a little under a year old. The brown haired boy is tugging at one of the girl's black curls. His Mother sees this and playfully smacks his hand. The father shakes his head, laughing, before helping the boy drink his large cup of Hot Chocolate. The little girl has no comprehension about what just took place and begins to laugh along with her father.

I nod my head after a few seconds, answering Nick's question with an audible 'yes'.

"And how's that going?" He asks with general, unselfish interest that is hard to come by now a days.

"It's going great. Today is our 2 year and 8 month anniversary, actually."

"Oh, well, congratulations." He doesn't say it very happily through his small, whitened smile. He grabs his cup and waves it up in the air as a congratulatory expression. He takes a sip, and hisses once again.

"Ow. Damn. Still hot." He laughs quietly.

Sensing the fact that I am not very interested in our meeting, he feels the need to continue talking.

"Drake... Listen, I don't know what's going on, but there is something different about you. I always said that if you wanted to become a hardened person, go to New York. I didn't actually think that I was speaking the truth..."

"I haven't 'hardened', Nick. Today just isn't the best day." I snap at him instantly. Nick is taken aback but quickly regains his composure.

"Ohhh, well how come?"

"Really, no reason... Just woke up on the wrong side of the bed, I guess."

"It wouldn't have anything to do with that bruised nose of yours, would it? It looks new." He's accusing. I have never heard Nick use an accusing tone since... never! I have never heard him use an accusing, somewhat angered tone before... especially with me!

What-the-hell.

"Y'know, I should probably be going now." Grabbing my old and battered jacket, I place 8 dollars on the ceramic table.

"Thanks for the tea, Nick." Nick stares into my cup, realizing that I didn't take a sip of it.

"Drake, if you ever need help-"

I wisp back around, my eyes boring into Nicks. I'm on my heels, yet no one has yet realized the tension that has suddenly made its way into our local atmosphere. Weird, people usually sense these things, as their own lives are so boring that they need to discuss 'the random outburst' at the local cafe while having tea with the girls down at Starbucks...

"I don't need help, Nick! Why does everyone think I need help, geesh. I'm just a guy! A normal, 20 year old guy. There is nothing wrong! Sure, I have gotten into a few fights due to the fact that someone people here don't really accept bi's. But that's the worst of it." I hiss into his face.

"That's the type of reaction somebody in denial would say. I should know. My best friend used the exact same line when her husband was threatening her with violence."

"... Was she actually being hurt?" I ask with ease. I barely even realize that I cock my eyebrow as well. It's become a defensive habit within the past few years.

"Yes, severely. She was put into the hospital for 3 months that year. Her husband was charged and thrown into jail. He smashed her head into the wall, though. That blow to her head changed her, too. Ever since, she's never really been all there."

"Well, luckily, I am not in an abusive relationship. I have just been getting into fights, Nick. Stop worrying, kay?"

Nick Mateo sighs, not believing a word of my lie. "It's okay to talk, Drake."

"Yes. I agree. So, why don't you go find someone who _is_ in an abusive relationship, hmmm?"

A hand makes its way to Nick's forehead, which at the moment, is slightly covered with perspiration.

"Okay then. I guess I should probably get moving as well. I need to be at a meeting in less than an hour." Nick gets up from his chair, throwing a 10 dollar bill down as well.

"It was nice seeing you, Drake."

With an attempt at smiling, I take his hand into my own. "It was nice seeing you too, Nick."

The tension from stress that is seemingly engraved on his forehead shows no signs of release. This only guilt's me, because I know that I put it there.

"And stop worrying about everything, Nick!" I attempt at a whole-hearted laugh, but it is interrupted by another one of Nick's distressed sighs.

"You know that I never will."

It's the truth.

"... I know."

* * *

><p>With each step leading up to my apartment, I can feel myself becoming heavier, my shoulders leaning forward to try and balance out the increasing weight.<p>

By the time I reach the large white door, my knees collapse from underneath me.

Breathe. Just breathe. In and out. In and out.

I can't understand why that conversation got me so worked up. For the past two years, it's felt like no one really cared, but then, all of a sudden, Nick shows me genuine concern.

Inhale, Exhale. Inhale, Exha-

A sudden crash on other side of the door brings me out of my trance. Quickly glancing at my watch, I see that it is already 7 pm at night. I have been gone for 7 hours?

... Another crash makes it's echoes heard from inside the apartment.

Sighing, I pick up my exhausted feet and force myself through the entrance.

A delusional Kayle is screaming, stomping and hitting anything he can on the other side of the room. Hearing the door shut, his head weaves towards me. "What the _fuck_ are _you_ doing here?" He barks.

Lifting my hand up in a non-violent manner, showing Kayle that I'm not here to hurt him, I simply say "It's me, Drake."

His glazed eyes continue to taunt me. "I said- What the _fuck_ are _you_ doing here?"

I repeat calmly. "It's me, Drake."

"You hurt Carol."

"No. No, Kayle. I did not hurt Carol. I am not your father."

"You always say that." He is now baring his teeth at me.

"I say it, because it is true." I pronounce each word very slowly and with tranquility. I have been here and done this only one too many times too count.

"You're lying! You hurt Carol. She's bleeding on the floor over there. How dare you... But... now you're back. You're back for me. Ohhh, no! You're not going to get me, Bryan. This time, you're not going to get me." His tone equals mine as he grabs an empty bottle of scotch from the table. He brings it up in the air and flings it towards me.

Luckily, his aim is off and my adrenaline has kicked in. I merely dodge the flying glass. I have learned from experience that moving too fast will upset Kayle further. He'll think that it's Bryan trying to come at him from a different angle and pounce. I have also learned from experience that not dodging the flying glass can also cause damage... mostly to my head.

How do you think I got the bruise on my nose, Nick?

Softly, I repeat the words that have been said only one too many times. "Kayle, it's me, Drake."

"I don't know anyone named Drake. Stop playing mind games, you fucking prick!" He lurches his body towards the kitchen, opening all the cupboards and grabbing as many glasses as he can.

I do not stay put. I try, very carefully, to walk up to him and force him out of this episode once again.

"I'm Drake. Not Bryan. Drake. Your boyfriend of 2 years and 8 months. I have remained by your side all this time, and I do not plan on leaving. So, come on. Let's just put down those cups carefully."

Tears are making their way down Kayle's contorted face. "No... You're lying. You're trying to fuck with my head. No... I know nobody by the name of Drake, you dick..."

Remaining calm is the key to success in these situations. If I leave, he could really do damage. Not only to the apartment, but to himself. If I freak out, he'll freak out as well, which would only cause damage to me.

I have learned this all with experience.

"... Kayle, come on. Give me the glasses."

"No!" He screams. As soon as the echoes die down, he begins aiming and throwing. Aiming and throwing. Aiming and throwing. All towards me.

The impact of it all forces me up against the wall of the door. I press myself against it, trying to become one. Walls are inanimate objects, correct? They don't feel pain.

The broken glass shatters on top of me, beside me, under me, everywhere around me. The pieces break into thousands in the air, tearing tiny bits of skin from my exposed face and neck.

"Get out!" He screams once again. This time he's in the utensil drawer. The forks and spoons clack their way across the wall. A spatula hits my chest.

In a fit of rage, he stops throwing things at me and begins just throwing anything he can onto the floor.

Pots, pans, vitamins.

I feel myself paralyze as he turns towards me.

"Why are you here?" He barks. "You hurt Carol. She's bleeding on the floor over there. How dare you... But... now you're back. You're back for me. Ohhh, no! You're not going to get me, Bryan. This time, you're not going to get me." He's repeating what he's already said. As soon as he starts repeating, I know that excruciating pain is coming very soon.

"... I'm Drake." I squeak. The knock to my head from a whisk is apparently doing a good job and creating pain.

He's shaking his head in fury, as he goes toward the knife drawer. It takes him a while to choose his favourite. A long steak knife is lifted into my sight.

_Shit._

"Kayle!" I scream. "It's Drake! It's your boyfriend! I love you, you hear me! I love you. And because I love you, I would never hurt you! I am not your Father! Please, Kayle. Please!"

"That's what he says." Kayle is walking towards my pressed up silhouette, his eyes still glazed over in a delusional state. "How pitiful... I can't believe I ever let you touch me."

"Kayle..." My eyes are wide and dry, which only makes me want to blink. But I can't blink. Not now. If I blink, I might miss the slightest move. I might miss my chance to run. Hide. Dodge.

Kayle begins shaking his head once again, screaming and crying out. Slamming the knife onto the table, he grabs a wooden chair by the legs, hurling it towards me.

I hear a loud smack and possibly a crack that was covered up by a thudding. The chair made contact with my kneecap, before it made contact with the floor and my right foot.

I prevent a scream from escaping my lips. Kayle is screaming. No profanities. No phrases. No words. Just common, terrifying, Bloody Mary screaming.

I latch onto the doorknob and fling the door open, escaping from this hell if only momentarily. If I am going to save Kayle, I have to calm down first. A long, brisk walk will do that.

I hope he doesn't hurt himself in there...

* * *

><p>I am limping along Peck Slip St. which is just off of Pearl street in downtown New York. Don't know where it is? It's right beside the Brooklyn Bridge.<p>

I've always liked this street. It's reasonably safe. Well, as safe as you can get in Downtown New York. It's very close to our apartment building, so it only takes 15 minutes to get there. Kayle doesn't understand why I like it so much. Truthfully, I don't either. It's just a street right? I don't know. I like going up to the fence and staring into the water. The somewhat fresh breeze that never fails to blow itself onto my face. Maybe it's the water? Maybe it's the street name, Peck. Haha...

"H-sheyy, Buddiee!" A drunk man with a full head of hair, and a not so cleanly shaven face, stumbles beside me, feverishly observing my body. "I hash a fity dolla bill. Wanna give me a blowjewb? Youssh look like you give em' gooood!"

"Fuck off, Drunk Man." I say nonchalantly. You get used to these types of request after a while. A person just has to have the ability to learn how to say no, which is something that I wish I knew how to do 2 years ago with Mr. Mortella. A shiver runs up my spine at the thought.

"Whoo's yeu callin' Dwunk, dick."

Is it saddening that the only word he pronounced correctly was "Dick"? Is it saddening that I noticed that that was the only word he pronounced correctly?

"Just leave me alone, okay old man?" He's not very old. Actually, from this angle, he doesn't seem old at all. Late twenties, maybe?

"You prick!" He yells, tackling my body to the ground. I can feel his soft fists hitting the crook of my back. Heh, he's so drunk he can't even hit properly. Turning my body around with ease, I give him my specialty. A right hook across his cheek and nose. I feel the blood smear across my hand as I break it.

"y-Yeu b-broke m-m-ma nose!" He wails. "Yeu'll p-payy for dis, I swear it!"

"Ya, ya. Go drink your booze." I say harshly, standing up from the cold pavement, wiping the dirt from my jeans.

What a bastard.

"Hey! Hey! This is the police! You're under arrest for assaulting a police officer. You have the right to remain silent. Drop any weapons you may possess!" A man in a blue suit yells from behind me, a gun placed stiffly in his bulky hands.

My hands are up in the air in an instance. I do not want to be shot, especially by a pissed off cop.

"Washh...whassh goin on ere'... Conroyy?"

"Get up, you lazy fuck." The man with the gun is only a couple feet away from me, grabbing and lifting the poor drunk onto his unstable feet. "You were on fucking call. Why the hell are you shit-faced, _again!"_ The man whispers with infuriation.

Maybe if I walk away reallll slow, these people won't notice, and, well, I can get away. Shot free, ticket free, and possible-time-in-jail free!

"Hey! Where the hell do you think you're going? You do know that it is illegal to flee from the scene of a crime, right?" The man yells again. I guess my shuffling along the sidewalk plan didn't work out to well...

"Ummm, no. I didn't know that... How is this a crime scene?" I ask, hands still in the air. Due to the fact that the man is behind me, I don't know if his gun is still pointing at me. The gun that I just know is begging to see some action.

"Well, from what I saw, you gave this kind man here an awfully good right hook. He's bleeding, and from what I can tell, you broke his nose. Now here is the shocker. This man is a fellow police officer. You've just assaulted a police officer, and now the charges must be made."

Police officer. What?

I turn my body to look up to the man wearing a blue suit. Early thirties, probably. He's tired, and the wrinkles are already being placed lightly on his face. They're not very prominent, though... Heh, poor bastard, he's already balding.

"I-...what! Who are you? I have a right to that knowledge, don't I?" I demand, trying to avoid the oncoming snicker from the 'balding' comment.

"... I guess you do." He sneers at me angrily. "Officer Conroy. Please to make your acquaintance. Now, as I said before, you have the right to remain silent. Anything you say can and will be used against you in a court of law... get in the ba-"

An older man who's wearing the same uniform runs up to us, interrupting Officer Conroy's speech.

"Officer Conroy. Let me take care of this. We have an A.1 50 50 on South Boulevard. Don't worry, I'll take care of this one." He gives Officer Conroy an evil grin.

Officer Conroy glares at the older gentleman, before snaking off towards his 'ghost' car, the drunk officer with the broken nose in his arms.

We watch the two leave with hidden disgust.

"Listen, officer-"

"Call me Clarke. Dwayne Clarke." He says gently.

"Alright... Officer Clarke... Listen, it was self defence! Really, I was just defending myself!" I plead.

Officer Clarke just laughs kindly. "I know, kid. I saw the whole scenario. The man who attacked you is a fellow police officer. Unfortunately he has a bit of a problem with the alcohol, if you know what I mean. We were on call and he was nowhere to be found. So we came here, where his favourite bar is. Unluckily for you, you happened to be here as well."

"Ohh... Can I leave now, Sir?"

He eyes me up and down. "You live near here, son?"

I nod my head. "I'll give you a ride. A boy limping in your manner with that whack of cuts and bruises on his face does not deserve to be walking by himself late at night."

"Oh, no! I ca-can't, really. I live very close, it'd just be a nuis-"

"Oh nonsense! I'd be happy to!

"Listen, Officer. Really I'm fi-"

"Get in the car, kid. I am not letting you go by yourself. It'd be wrong on my part. And, if you don't come along, I'll charge you for resisting arrest. It's not true, but I can and will make you go to jail for it." He states, winking at me.

Sighing, I follow him into his police car, driving off into the distance.

* * *

><p>"Where do you live, kid?" His asks me gently.<p>

"Just around the corner." I say.

"Wow, the nice part of town! Parents rich, boy?"

"No, sir. Well kind of – yes. But, it's my boyfriend...M-my boyfriend works for Nasdaq... and I live with him." My tone reaches regret as soon as I bring up Kayle. I shouldn't have left. What was I thinking? Why did I have to be so selfish and leave! He needed help. My help! It wasn't his fault that he had another episode!

"Nasdaq, wow. Fuckin' important job. Stock Markets..."

I cringe as he speaks.

"_Nasdaq. Fuckin' important job. Stock Markets..."_

That's what Bryan said...

"So I've heard." I bark harshly.

"Listen, kid. Are you alright?"

"How do you know I'm not some lying criminal?" I ask unintentionally.

"I don't, I guess. Why're you bringing that up?" He cocks his head to the side, eyes gleaming of interest.

"How do you know that I didn't just lie to get out of this car quicker? How do you know that I'm not some person living in a grow-op, selling marijuana?" I cry, my frustration taking control.

"Well, you're not, are you?"

"No!" My voice hits the edge of exasperation and crazy.

"Exactly."

"But, then, why are you being so nice to me? You're a police officer in New York. You should know better than anyone about the lies and hardships that take place here."

"That is true. Lies, pain, death. It happens everywhere, everyday. You probably can't even imagine some of the things I've seen. But, I've also seen some good things, too. It doesn't happen very often, but it does happen." He sighs, pulling a hand through his hair. "Truthfully, you remind me of someone."

We pull up next to my apartment building, but I don't exit. I just stare up at the lights that are painted onto the gloomy, modern building. The specific light that I'm looking has been painted black for the evening.

"Who's that?" I ask, obviously not that interested in the subject. My interest and only care is what's going on in my apartment. Kayle. I'm worried sick, but I can't seem to be able to force myself out of the vehicle.

"My sister."

I take another look at the old man before falling back into my seat, my hand running through my hair. I need a haircut...

"And how do I remind you of your sister?" I ask with my playful smile. It's painful, but it's all I have to be normal right now.

"You have the same eyes as her..."

"Oh, you mean small, squinted and dark brown?"

"Haha, well no, actually. She had large, round, bright blue eyes."

Uh-huh?

"... okay then?" I say, stating my confusion in the most obvious manner.

"What I meant to say is, that you have the same look as she did. The same emotion. I know the signs now."

"Signs?"

"Do you mind if I tell you a story, boy?"

Taking another glance towards my apartment, I nod my head. Officer Clarke smiles with that kind, old man, smile. The kind that shows total sincerity. Something that seems safe and trustworthy.

Taking a deep breath, he begins.

"It all started on a farm in South Carolina. Its where I grew up, along with my 9 other siblings. I had 9 siblings! Only three of em' were related by blood, though. The rest were from our whore of a step mother. Even her own children hated her. But, she was rich, and she kept the farm running."

_Breathe_

"Marianna was my twin sister, my best friend... Marianna... She was gorgeous, and lord, did she know it! Long black curls, along with large, bright blue eyes. Haha, I had to fight off a few boys to stay away from her... But there was one man I could never keep her away from. There was someone who noticed her in a light that he probably shouldn't have seen her in. I-it was our Uncle Dale. He was a disturbed son of a bitch. He fought in the war, which just fucked with his mind entirely. He wasn't able to deal, mentally, with what happened. Not that none of that matters, I guess. Nothing can forgive him for the pain he caused."

_Breathe_

"Marianna said whatever she thought, which led her into trouble more often than not. Uncle Dale liked her sass... a little too much. I later learned that the first place it happened was in the barn behind the house. I remember that she tried so hard to stay normal. She tried so hard to live her life, but when Uncle Dale was clinically labelled as "Mentally unstable", our step mother happily let him live at our house. That's when Marianna decided that she couldn't deal with it anymore. She tried to get away. First in books, and school, trying to get the top grades of the class so she could get out of town sooner, by skipping a grade. It didn't work, of course. She was only 12 went it all began. By the time her 15th year came along, she had discovered sex, alcohol and drugs. Name anything and she probably did it."

_Breathe_

"... I remember coming home after work, and having to help her disgracefully walk up the stairs to our room, where she would cry, and then laugh, and then break down in sobs once more, screaming at me not to touch her. I tried my best to help her. I got a job so I could send her away on a bus, and maybe put her into some boarding school, or something. By the time I was 17, Marianna was a broken piece of human. Barely got off the couch. She drank her Sherry and Brandy all day, mixing it with whatever drugs she had somehow obtained. She also had a beast of a boyfriend. He was large, mean, and treated Marianna none too well. And, as awful as it was, Uncle Dale was still living in our house, still making his daily trips to our room when I left for work or school. I was 18 when I left to New York, I tried to force Marianna to come with me, but she claimed that she was in love with the beast of a boy. They were planning on running away together."

_Breathe_

"Finally... 5 years later, it was our father's funeral. It was my first time visiting the farm in 5 years. My entire family came, all of my 9 siblings, Uncle Dale, and Marianna included. She was still with the beast of a man, and had a small child in her arms. She still had those large blue eyes, though. Even through all the abuse, and the stress that made its way onto her young face, those eyes still shined brightly, even if they were only pretending. That night we shared our bedroom with the same old beds from childhood. When we were getting changed, I remember glancing over to her skinny, pale body. I remember all of the cuts, and bruises seemingly painted onto it. I was worried, so I asked how they got there. She started screaming, like all those years back. I was 15 again, and unable to help my sister. She and her husband left abruptly the next morning. They never even said goodbye. There was no note. Nothing."

_Breathe_

" Life went on for another 15 years, as usual. Until one day, I finally got a card in the mail from Marianna, saying that she was in New York when I had just busted one of the biggest drug dealers out there. She found my name in an article of 'The Times'. She made plans on the card, saying that I will meet her at this so time, and that so place. I followed along, just hoping to see the old Marianna again. The one from childhood. The one that never took shit from anyone. The leader of the group. My twin sister..."

_Breathe_

"I wasn't given such an opportunity. She was completely malnourished. Her hair was frayed and limp. She had a scar on her cheek, along with a couple of bruises. The stress had increased and was now shown in wrinkles on her face, along with racoon eyes. It killed me. She was completely delusional. She was saying how her beast of a boyfriend had become the CEO of all of wall street and her kid, god I don't even know his name, was an honours student hoping to graduate and get into Harvard Law or Medical School. I remember there was this rip in her blouse, along with these fragments of blood. She was missing two teeth. Her eyes were no longer pretending. She'd given up. After that lunch, I learned that she jumped off of the Brooklyn bridge. She couldn't handle it anymore. So, in her own way, she wanted to see me to say goodbye. I'd like to think of it as disclosure. The only person on earth who ever really cared about her, still cared kind, of thing. I think that was all she needed. Someone to love her, take care of her and treat her properly."

_Breathe_

"... It's a funny thing. For some odd reason, I drove back to my the farm last year. Apparently it was sold to some local stud with a lot of money, too much time, and a master's degree in business. I didn't even know that my old home was gone. Where did all of the stuff go? I pray to god that it isn't a the junkyard... My childhood home has been torn down now, and made into a suburban mall."

_Breathe_

"Heh, I've always wondered. What would people do if they found out that they're trying on swimsuits on the same grounds where blood was shed. Where a young, innocent girl had been repeatedly abused, molested, and ra-... well, you know, I hope. I just always wondered if people would cringe and step away, or would they even care? I would hope it's the first, but something tells me it would be the latter of the two. It happened so long ago, what relevance does it bare now?" He finishes his long story with a huff, wiping his eyes clean from the oncoming tears.

"... What does this have to with me?" I ask, voice bland, sans any emotion.

"Like I said, you have the same look in your eyes. You've been hurt. Probably still are. You won't admit it though. That was always her problem... you're not delusional like she was, yet. Her eyes were so crazy, and so far away from reality. You aren't there, but you're at the same point that she was when she was 17. Limping, depressed, still has a little bit of sass, but you're losing it. Whenever I see a young one like yourself, with those emotions in your eyes, I try to help. I try to talk to them. I'm not sure if my assumption is even correct. I may be completely wrong, and you might have a great life, you just had a bad day or something... but, maybe I am right, So I have to try, right? So please? Think about what I've said?"

I grab onto the handle, opening the door swiftly. I'm about to get out, my legs making their way from rubber to pavement when the soft sounds of husky crying from the old man stop me.

"... Whatever happened to Uncle Dale?" I ask unintentionally.

_Breathe_

"... He was only 10 years older than us. He fought in the war... Other than that, he's lived a healthy life. Got married, had a stable job, had 3 perfectly normal children who also all had perfectly normal children. He survived, and got away with only a few scratches and memories from the war. He was only there for 6 months... And those were the good months where we were winning every battle. He lived, and came out relatively unharmed, yet he destroyed multiple other lives. Marianna's. Mine. Her son's. Her son's children. It's a vicious cycle that he started, and god knows where it'll end. Dale is still alive today, living at a veterans hospital in Seattle. He's getting dementia, though. That's the worst he's had it in years."

I can't take it anymore. The injustice of it all only creates more anger. It isn't fair.

What Marianna went through.

What Megan and Mom went through when Dad died.

What Josh went through when his parents split, only to be forced to live with me in my home, rather than his.

What Kayle went through...

It isn't fair.

I slam the car door, and walk up to the apartment, without so much as a Thank-You. I don't feel guilty yet, but I know I will in the morning. Maybe I'll send a card or something... a card? How much of a pussy can I be?

I can hear the window rolling down. "Be careful, son. Remember, if you ever need help, just call your local Police Department, and ask for Dwayne Clarke. Something tells me he'll be there in a jiffy." He yells with a sniffling laugh.

I know he'll help. We don't need help, damn it.

Everything is fine! Fine! Fine! Fine!

Why does no one believe me?

'_Because it isn't true_' I think as I limp up the steps once more.

Entering our apartment, I find Kayle passed out on the couch. A porno movie is on the large screen T.V in the corner at the moment.

In between the 'oohs' and 'aahs' of the girls, I hear my shoes make a crunching sound beneath me.

Glass...

Looking towards the kitchen, the knives have been thrown everywhere, along with the contents of the fridge. Milk is now soured and stained against the carpet and wood floor.

They're mixing with the objects that had been thrown earlier, when I came into the room trying to help.

I glance at my watch.

3 am.

... Time to start cleaning.

* * *

><p>Chhaappppter donne!<p>

I had to put the 'Peck' street in. When I found out that there really was a street with the name 'Peck" in it, in New York, I was sooo happy. Just a little Drake and Josh actor trivia, haha :p

And time to criticize! I really like the idea of what happened to Marianna and that story, I just don't think I did it justice. It could have been SOOO much better. I re-wrote it and re-wrote it. It-I-Just... Gahhhh.

Okay, also another note (Sorry!), I like to be atleast 4 chapters ahead of the chapter that I'm updating. I'm really behind, since I'm like, only 1 and a half chapters ahead right now... So, prettty much, there migghttt not be a chapter update next week (if I am lucky and don't get Shitload of homework/tests this week, there will hopefully be an update). I just want to try and get caught up! Also, I only have like 5 1/2 (could be more if they end up being really long chapters and I want to split them in the middle, which sometimes happens...) more chapters to write... That makes it sounds like its going to be easy... mehh!

Review :)


	15. Chapter 14

I feel sooo bad that I didn't update last week :'( And, since Fate seems to be against me, I wasn't able to write as much as I wanted to this week/last week. This Chapter really wasn't worth a 2 week wait, either. I hope everyone enjoys it, though :)

But anyways, this chappter is where I begin skipping a whole bunch of years. I am an idiot for making the prologue 6 years after chapter 1. All the math is killing me! At the moment, we are 5 years ahead. Drake is 23, just incase anyone becomes confused :)

... And yesss, lets make Drake happy ;) ... I'm disturbed, I swear to god.

Disclaimer: I do not own Drake and Josh

* * *

><p>I'm sitting on the balcony, eating a small bowl of Caesar Salad. I just made it, so at least I know it's fresh, unlike some of the restaurants around here. You can never trust people in the food business.<p>

I've always loved this view. The sun beaming down on everything creates a golden and silvery gleam across all the buildings. It's the beginning of Springtime, so the snow is just starting to melt away.

It's cold outside, but I haven't seen such a blue sky in months. Even with the sounds of all the car horns, and ambulances, and police cars, and crashes, it still somehow remains peaceful.

Kayle's at work right now, which is why I'm eating this bowl of Caesar salad. I'll have to wash it before he gets home.

Kayle has been... obsessive, to say the least. I think it's just because he has nothing else to nitpick at, truthfully. He needs to release some of his stress from work. Maybe? I don't know, I could be wrong but that's just my idea.

My weight is what's really worrying him lately.

"_I will not fuck somebody who has love handles!"_ He yelled at me the other night.

I went to the doctor the other day for a routine check-up. He noticed that I had a couple small bruises over my body and a slightly purple, swollen eye. I just said that I was trying to go for pro-wrestling. He laughed at me. "_Someone of your size is allowed in Pro Wrestling?"_ I hate being short.

But, then... he looked at me seriously, a dak gleam in his eye. "_You do know that to enter any Pro Wrestling competition, you have to be at least 160 pounds, right?"_

I nodded my head nonchalantly. "_Ya, so?" _I asked.

"_Well-" _ He began "_You have a small frame, and since you're about 5'9... you should weigh in between 142 and 151 lbs."_

I started freaking out. I was worried that Kayle was right. I weighed too much. I became too fat, and too ugly. I had love handles.

"_What's the problem, Doc.?"_ I asked, trying to keep the oncoming stress out of my voice.

"_... You weigh 129 lbs... you're approximately 15 lbs underweight. I don't know what's going on, but you need to eat. Doctor's orders."_

So that's what I'm doing. Eating a bowl of salad. I'm eating, like the doctor requested, but I'm not eating too much, like Kayle wants. See, everyone is happy!

I let the last piece of romaine covered with dressing slide down my throat, and open up the door to the warm apartment.

I walk up to the kitchen and beginning filling the sink with warm water and soap. Time to do dishes...

* * *

><p>By the time I'm halfway through, the phone begins to ring. Looking at the digital clock on the microwave, I realize that it's 3:00 pm. It must be Kayle, saying that he'll be late or something. In that case, I'll just let it ring.<p>

_Ring... Ring... Ring... Ring..._

After what seems like the 80th ring, the answering machine finally picks up. My voice flows through the room._"Hi, you've reached Kayle and Drake. Please leave a message after the beep!"_

_Beeep._

"_H-hi... I'm hoping that this is the right Drake. If this is Drake Parker, could you please phone me back? ... It's Joshie. Heh. How have ya been, man! It's been a really, really, long time. Anyways, I just wanted to phone to say that, well, I got a job as the Dean at NYU. The Dean here at Yale has been training me to fill his position when he leaves, but that won't be for a while, so when he heard the Dean at NYU was retiring, he forced me to send my application with his Letter of Recommendation. He said it would be good practice for when I'm the Dean at an even higher class school, like Yale. He's kind of pretentious... Anyways to celebrate my new Job, I'm having a Party at my house this Saturday at 7:30. And... I want to see you again. My number is 1 203 772 5555. Call me, okay man? I really miss you... And if this isn't Drake Parker I am sooo sorry. Just delete this message and... just forgot this ever happened. I'm embarrassed enough as it is... I'm really hoping it's you Drake, I really hope it;s you... but, umm, ya. Bye?_"

_Click._

I'm paralyzed in my position. I can't move.

That was Josh. Jooosshhh. Josh Nichols. My step brother. Josh Nichols, my best friend in High School. I haven't heard his voice since he packed up and left... that was almost 5 years ago.

He's the new Dean at NYU? ... He's becoming the new Dean at Yale? Wow, life has treated him well. I guess out of anyone, he deserves it.

I let the bowl dry next to sink on a dampened cloth, and walk over to the answering machine. The red light continues flashing.

_On and Off._

Blink. Blink. Blink.

_On and Off._

Blink. Blink. Blink.

_On and Off._

Blink. Blink. Blink

Taken aback slightly by the bright flashing of the machine, I thrust my hand forward. I glide my fingers over the play button, press it, and listen to the message once more.

After it's over, I press it again... and again.. and again.. and again. Just to hear his voice.

Finally- _"H-hi... I'm hoping that this is the right Drake. If this is Drake Parker, could you please phone me ba-" _

_Click_

_"_Message Deleted. You Have No New Messages."

My heart beats quickens when I realize that I just lost Josh's number, only to remember that I memorized it after the first time he said it.

1 203 772 5555. That's his number.

Quickly, I grab my own phone, and put his number in contacts, under Kayle's name... Just in case Kayle looks through my contact list again. He never looks at his own contact profile, so it's the best place to hide the number!

I walk over to the T.V, turning down the volume. I don't want anyone or anything to interrupt this conversation. Without another hesitation, I begin pressing the buttons on my phone.

1... 203...

_Oh god... _772...

5555... _I can't believe I'm doing this._

_Ring..._

_Ring... _

_Rin- "... H-hello?" _Here goes nothing.

I take a deep gulp of air before talking.

"Hey is this Josh? Josh Nichols?"

_"Umm.. Ya? Who is this?"_

"No way!" I begin, acting completely over the top.

"I can't believe it. I just can't believe that I'm talking to Josh Nichols. THE Josh Nichols! The new Dean at NYU! ... You don't know who this is yet, do you?" I laugh into the phone.

"_I have it down to three options._" He says seriously.

"Fine! I guess I'll just have to come out and say it, which completely takes the fun out of the game of torturing you like Megan did to us all those years ago."

His breath hitches over the phone. _"... Drake? Is that really you? I didn't want to get my hopes up."_

"Well, it's your lucky day then, Joshie, because it's Drake! How have you been, man? Where's the party at this Saturday?"

* * *

><p>I ring the doorbell of a nice, comfy looking two story house.<p>

There is loud music playing on the inside, but not too loud that it would make people leave with their ears ringing. This is definitely Josh's house.

I can hear footsteps making their way to the door, and I can see the door handle begin to turn.

My heart stops.

I can't believe I'm about to see Josh.

It took a two and a half hour car ride to get here. Usually, it takes an hour and a half, depending on how fast your going. With Kayle it's an hour and a half, but for a normal person? It should take you at the most 2 hours. But no! Fate is against me today, so it created a traffic jam on the highway when I was only a mile outside of New Haven. I was thrilled, to say the least.

I told Kayle I was going out for the evening, but he didn't believe me. He thinks I'm cheating on him, so he doesn't like me going out too often, which is also the reason why he sometimes checks the contact list on my phone... But it's okay! He's just making sure that I'm still 'loyal' to him.

It's just difficult sometimes.

But it all lead up to this, so it was all definitely worth it.

... The door in front of me swings open.

A slightly tipsy, more mature Josh is standing in the door way.

His face is longer, making him look older than he actually is. The tiniest bit of stubble darkens his chin and upper lip.

He cut his hair. It's longer then a buzz cut, but not by a whole lot. The shorter hair suits him more than the long hair that he had the last time I saw him. It isn't as curly, either. He's lost a lot more weight, and I can tell that he's been lifting weights, too. He seems so different. He seems like a true, professional, mature adult now. Still, I can't believe this is Josh.

"... Drake!" He yells, giving me that famous wonky smile of his, eyes gleaming of happiness and child-like excitement.

Yup, never mind. This is still Josh.

I flinch only slightly as he grabs my body from the cold outside and brings me in for a bear hug. The foreign warmth surrounds me and I let myself cuddle moderatly into it. I wrap my arms around Josh's waist, returning the hug.

"It's so good to see you." He says almost on the verge of tears.

"Ya, it's good to see you too, Josh." I say, giving him a real smile from his chest. It seems like I haven't smiled like this in forever.

* * *

><p>We walk up the stairs, past all the people who wave and congratulate Josh, and into the kitchen, where Josh begins getting himself a drink of some sort of juice. Haha, of course. This is Josh. Why would I expect him, a 23 year old, to pour some alcohol into his beverage? He's already only slightly tipsy, why need to get more of a buzz than that? Geesh.<p>

He still hasn't really looked at me, though. I think he's nervous. Then again, it has been 5 years. Why shouldn't he be nervous? A lot of stuff has happened, people change. We just need to get re-acquainted again, I guess.

"Do you want something to drink, Drake? I can get you something with alcohol if you want." He says, head still poking inside his fridge, looking for something.

I give the question a quick thought before shaking my head.

"Nahh, thats okay, man. I have to drive home tonight anyways, so I probably shouldn't be drinking." I say sincerely.

"Ahh... Oh! Here it is!" He brings out a can of Moca Cola and throws it towards me.

I grab it easily in mid air and look at it oddly. I haven't had a can of pop for a really long time. The numb chill of the tin can against my fingertips feels somewhat nostalgic. It just reminds me of all the fun days in mine and Josh's room, or at the cinema, mixing our two beverages, having the time of our lives...

Damn, I really am turning into a wuss.

Josh still has not looked towards my face, instead his eyes are attached wearily to the can of pop in my hands.

"... Well?" He asks.

"... Well, what?" My voice reaches a puzzled tone, since I have no idea what that 'Well?' could mean.

"Heh, are you going to open it?"

The can, all of a sudden, feels like a 20 lbs weight in my hand. I turn it, glancing at the nutritional facts.

Total carbohydrates – 39 grams

Sugars – 39 grams

Calories – 140 per every 250 mls.

I turn the can again and see that it is 473 mls... I hate when pop factories do that!

"... Umm, I think I'll pass on it Josh. I can probably just have some water." I say, my eyes still gazing over the numbers and big words that were used to make it.

"You're allowed to have it, you know?" Josh says defensively.

"Ya, I know. I just don't really feel like a Moce Cola."

"Drake, I know you want it."

"I'm alright, Josh. Its fine, I really don't feel like it."

"I want you to have it."

"Josh, no-"

"Open it, Drake. Now." His tone is brimming on the edge of anger. Obviously, if this continues, I'm going to lose. According to the fact that we're finally seeing each other again in such a long time, I don't want to ruin the moment. Might as well just put up the white flag now, huh?

Sighing, I open the tin carefully. I bring the frost layered opening to my lips, the intense cold travelling down my throat. I never taste a thing.

"You've lost weight." He says, finally looking me in the eyes.

"So have you." I reply casually.

"Ya, at least I'm in the 'perfect weight' category, now, unlike... well-" He finishes his sentence by making a gesture towards me.

"What's that supposed to mean?" The sneer on my face is out in the open and for everyone to see. Since Josh is the only one in the room, he's the only one who gets to witness the display.

Josh sighs and backs up away from my body. "I'm just worried about you, man. You look horrible."

"Bad day. I just got over a fever, so that's probably why." I lie.

My lying ability has decreased somewhat during the past few years. I hope Josh doesn't figure that out, though.

"... Dating anyone?" He asks sternly, changing the topic.

Casual, Drake. Remain casual. Shrugging my shoulders, I say - "Still Kayle." I can hear Josh give an angered huff as a response.

"You have a black eye and a bruised cheek. I kind of figured."

"Then why'd you ask?" I sneer, letting the black eye comment slide for now.

With that Josh grabs his water and leaves the room. He mutters something about 'having-to-find-Mindy' as he exits, leaving me alone in the wallflower of a kitchen.

* * *

><p>I enter the living room where currently everyone, excluding Josh and apparently Mindy, seem to be. I find room on the leather couch and sit back and watch the drunk geniuses in action.<p>

« Est-ce qu'il sera venir ce soir? » A girl asks, clearly with an English accent attempting to sound foreign. Wannabe.

« Oui, oui! » Another girl answers. Same sickening accent. Same sickening scenario of 'Wannabe-itus'.

« Il est si mignon! » The first girl says.

« Ahahaa, je sais! » The second girl answers.

… Okay, that was the wrong conversation to eavesdrop in considering that I don't understand Spanish...

The man on the couch beside me looks bored, but it isn't until I see his pupils that I can tell he's high. Even by looking at him from the side, his pupils seem like they take up most of his iris. I guess he can sense my staring, since he turns towards me, gazing at me like I'm the coolest thing since a purple elephant.

"Hey buddy! How's your night going?" He asks lazily, head dangling on the couch cushions.

"Ehhh, it's alright. How about you?" I ask politely.

"It could be better. I'm so happy for Josh, though. He's worked so hard for this! Y'know, it took me until 3rd year to finally get the boy wasted, and even then he was probably tipsy at most!" He laughs loudly.

I gawk at him, shocked by the idea of Josh being _drunk. _"I can't believe he's even gotten drunk before! That's insanity. How do you know him? Same class in university, or what?" I ask, changing the topic.

"Hahaaa, we've been roommates since first year. This is actually, also, my house! Haha, it's funny, while I went to class high and got almost near perfect scores, that kid over there... no, not over there.. outside? Anyways, that kid, who this party is for, Josh Nichols, spent every waking hour... awake? And studying h-core, too! It was so strange! H-how do you know him?" He eyes me up suspiciously before going into a fit of giggles.

"I'm Josh's stepbrother." I reply casually.

His mouth gapes at what I just said, some brown pieces of hair falling out of Atlanta Braves cap as he comes closer to my face.

"Josh has a step-brother?" He almost screams. He waves his hands in the air and pulls me in for a hug. "Holy crap, man! Joshie never told me that! I mean, I knew that he had a step-mother and step-broth... no, no wait.. not step-brother, step-sister! Hahaa, I went to their place for Christmas last year, such a nice family... Have ya ever met them?"

"... I have, actually." I say, dumbfounded by the question. What part of _step-brother_ would make him think that I haven't met Josh's step-family? Then again, this kid is high. Maybe I should lay off of him for a bit.

"You're not drunk or anything are you?" He says cautiously, head once again draped lazily against the cushions.

"No, I'm not." I respond quietly.

"Ya! I could tell. Do you wanna get drunk... or _anything?"_ I almost laugh at what was just 's funny because the kid started moving his eyebrows up and down when he said _anything_... And they still haven't stopped.

_"_It probably isn't the best idea. I have to drive home tonight." I say, laughing quietly because of his continuously moving eyebrows.

"That sucks, man. Where do you live?"

"New York."

"God man, that sucks! Butttt, I have a little, ahh, somethin' somethin', that will help you have some fun for... probably only an hour? It should be good by the time you get home." ... His eyebrows are still moving... and they're beginning to piss me off.

"... What do you have?"

"I'm not gunnna tell ya until you take it."

What the fuck? Who the hell does he think he is? There is no way in hell that I'd take something when I didn't know what it was. "And why the hell should I listen to that?" I ask forcefully.

"Because you're a bored guy at your supposed step-brothers party." He says, poking me with both of his index fingers. "You're bored, and it would be an adventure, Charlieeee, an adventure." The kid adds, his voice soon mocking that YouTube clip with the animated Unicorns. He actually gets the voice spot on, too. Pretty impressive.

I glance around the room, at all the drunk people who've made something of themselves. I can't help but feel a twinge of jealousy.

"... Sure, I'm in."

"Yay!" The boy yells excitedly.

With that, he bounces from his seat. He grabs my arm and prances into the bathroom, closing and locking the door behind us.

He latches onto a small bag of white powder from his back pocket. The bag loooks to be less than a gram of whatever the drug is. He grabs a Kleenex and splitting it in two, he puts more than half of the bag in one Kleenex, and the rest in another. With his full attention, he folds the Kleenexes perfectly, so none of the powder will fall out.

"What is it?" I ask again.

Handing me the Kleenex, with the lesser amount of the unknown drug in it, and a glass of water that came from nowhere, he answers my question. "MDMA, so pretty much, pure ecstasy."

"I know what MDMA is." I bark back at him.

"Whatever, man." He holds the Kleenex in his hand before throwing it into his mouth. He grabs my glass of water and swallows the MDMA in one gulp.

"Bottoms up, kid." He states, smiling.

... Well, here goes nothing.

* * *

><p>I think... I think... holy crow, it's been over an hour! Wow! That's just... That's just incredible.<p>

I am back on the couch exchanging numbers with Jamie, the boy who gave me the MDMA... Is it really hot in here? ... I think it's really hot in here, like, really hot.

"So, I was like, no, no, no, get this, I was like, I was like... oh boy, what was I like? Oh right! I was like, 'Josh man, you, you've never been drunk. You, you, you gotta get drunk at least once in your life, man.' And with that, he got drunk! He made out with three girls that night, true story. That is something he will take to his gravveee. And I mean gravveeee! It's a shame though, those three girls were hot-beyond-belief!" Jamie says closing his eyes and twiddling his fingers through the air.

"I just can't believe Joshie got drunk! You've done the unthinkable! Something I've been trying to do for years!" I yell excitedly, throwing my hands into the air. I try to stretch my arms and fingertips as far as they can go. The air feels so cool against my skin.

"I can't believe Joshie had a step-brother and never told me about him." Jamie whispers, gaping his mouth at me. "I just can't believe it!"

"Ya, but now that you do know, we can be friends. Oh wait, I already have your number in my phone, that means we are friends! Awesome dude!" I yell once again.

"Ya, man." He yells back.

With that we clasps our hands together and bring each other in for a bro' hug. Jamie lets go first, and turns his head away from mine. "Hey, Alicia! Come here, I want you to meet my best bud here, Drake. He's Joshie's stepbrother!" His mouth is open and has created the widest sideways 'D' that I have ever seen! Wow, I just noticed that when someone smiles really, really wide, it looks like a sideways 'D'. Cool! Too bad this isn't a cartoon, because then a frown could look like that as well. A sideways 'D' frown would be cool. Too cool. It'd be totally awesome. Hehh...

A girl comes into my view. She has straight, limp, ugly brown hair. Her bored look goes along with the annoyance in her eyes. She places a fragile hand on her short, jean skirt angrily. Needless to say, I don't think she's happy.

"Fuck off, Jamie. Josh does not have a step-brother." Her voice is high pitched, which just adds to the 'bitch' look. Annoyance, swears, limp hair, skinny, jean skirt, a white spaghetti strap with the British flag on it. Does she think that's cool? A girl like that should not be wearing anything that belongs to other cultures... it's a disgrace to the other culture.

And she has no boobs.

A warm arm surrounds my shoulders, I realize a second later that the arm belongs to Jamie. The boy who gave me the MDMA. Have I already said that?

"Yes he does, he's right here!" Jamie yells into my ear.

... The girl looks peeved beyond belief. Not going to lie, I'm a little scared. Due to my current position, I push myself back towards the cushion, obviously in a frightened manner. The girl gets my hint. I'm scared, so she should back off. Teehee.

"You're high, Jamie. He's most likely lying to you. I mean, look at him! He's so thin and his face is covered with bruises. He's probably just some homeless guy who saw this as a chance to get some food."

"Hey!" I yell towards this antagonizing bitch of a girl, getting up slightly from the comfy cushions of the couch. "I am sitting right here, ya know. I can hear everything you're saying about me. I can, oh yes, oh yes, I can! I am I am, Sam I am, Sam I do like green eggs and ham, Sam I am, I am Sam, Hahaahahhh, Dr. Suess." I giggle while bouncing a little in the cushioned couch. It's so comfy.

Jamie's eyes almost burst out of their sockets when he turns to look at me. "I LOVE Dr. Suess!"

"No way, me too!" I yell back at him. Finding something that we both have in common, we bring each other in for another hug.

"Gay." The bitch of a girl mumbles before walking away.

"... Drake?" A new voice has entered the realm of the estranged living room. I turn my eyes until they're met with hurt and disappointment.

"Heyy Joshie!" I yell, flying from my seat and latching onto him in a one sided bear hug.

"How have ya been, man?" I ask.

Josh places his hands on my shoulders as he drags me out of the room.

Once we're out of sight, Josh's anger starts flying at me through words being created by his rapidly paced, moving lips.

"You're high!" He whispers furiously towards me. He's being ferocious... like a lion... rawrr.

"Well... ummm, yaaa!"

Josh begins whipping his head back and forth and up and down, blinking a million times a minutes while doing so. It's making me dizzy.

"Woah, just take it easy man." I say happily, trying to calm the man in front of me down.

"Take it easy, I will not take it easy! I haven't seen you in years, and when I finally do, you're skinny, bruised, not eating and now you're high! What would you do in my situation, Drake?"

I shrug without a care in the world. It feels good to be this happy. "I don't know, Josh. I hope I'm never in your situation because that would mean that you're in my situation, and I don't want you being in my situation, Joshie. My situation isn't a good situation."

"Are you high off of MDMA, by chance?" He asks cautiously.

"Actually, I am! How'd ya know?"

"... You were hanging with Jamie, and his drug of choice is MDMA... and you're touching everything! ... Drake, put down my blue pot."

An apparent blue pot, which I thought was a green vase, is running its way through my hands and fingertips. It's so smooth, serene, polished, shiny, tranquil and unbroken. It feels so cool, I don't want to put it down! Joshiieee! Don't make me put it down!

"I'm taking you home." Josh says, grabbing my arm and trying to tug me through an open doorway.

"No!" I scream immiedatly at the touch. I attempt, and fail, to kick my way out of Joshie's death grip.

"You don't want to go home?" He asks me angrily, hands clenching my waist.

I nod my head animatedly. I don't want to go home. I don't want Kayle to see me like this. Baaaad things will happen if Kayle sees me like this.

"Why don't you want to go home, Drake?"

"N-no reason!" I feel my attitude change completely in a split second. "Come on Josh, lets drive to New York! Knowing my fate, it's like a three hour dive, no, I mean drive! With an R... Rawwrr. I think that would be a good chance to play catch-up with each other's lives!" I howl cheerfully, avoiding any subject as to why I do not want to go home.

I'm so happy!

* * *

><p>"Drake?"<p>

"Mmm..." I mumble, hands sliding against the cool center console.

"Police up ahead, look natural." He replies sternly.

I immediately sit up, cross my legs and stare intently towards the horizon. We've been driving for a little over an hour, according to the clock. We haven't really said anything to each other. I wonder why?

I have to admit, I am a bit ashamed... okay, not really! Tomorrow I will suffer the consequences of my actions with Kayle, but as of right now, I am as happy as a clown! Nothing can bring me down! Heh, that just rhymed... Seriously though, somebody can tell me that my Mom just died, and I would smile and act all happy because I am! Man, this stuff is strong. It feels so good. I am so happy!

"Can you look at me for a second, Drake?"

Hearing the wandering voice come from Josh's direction, I turn, facing the new Dean of NYU. Ohh yahh, that's what the party was about tonight! I forgot...

Our eyes meet, and I can tell that he's worried. His eyes are so grey, and I never knew his eyelashes were so long. They're the type every girl wishes they had. Josh got lucky, he has good genes. I can't stop staring. They look so gem like. Captivating. Alluring. Handsome. It must be the drugs because I'm aching to close the small gap between us. No, but I musn't! No! No! No! Badddd Drakey. Bad!

I can tell Joshie has absolutely no idea what I'm thinking. While my eyes are wide, dazed and confused, he looks like he's examining a dissection during biology class. Apparently, he's looking at me like I'm a cut up, open frog.

His eyes are still intriguing, though.

"Your pupils are still too big." He states. He turns away and concentrates on the road at this dark, dark hour.

As Josh turns away from me, I begin to look out the glass. I can't believe Josh just up and left his own party, to bring me home, none the less! Okay, I do feel bad... Okay, not really! This window is really cool. Haha, cool as in awesome, not cool as in cold... although it is cold. Woah...

"How's Kayle going to react to this." Joshie asks, his enticing grey eyes still focused angrily at the road.

"Not well." I state simply, smiling.

"What is he going to do to you, Drake?"

"Oh... me? Ummm... probably get really, really mad." My voice has reached the childish level. I sound like a nine year old. Yay? I don't know if that's a good thing.

"And what does he do when he gets really, really mad?"

"You don't want to know." I laugh out loud, answering Joshie's question. The lights outside are just so vibrant!

"Is that how you got those bruises on your face?"

I nod my head, still smiling, watching the dancing lights. I call that light Jack, and that one Lucy, and that one- oh... Jack and Lucy are gone...

"I'm going to call Kayle." Josh begins rummaging around, looking for what I assume to be a phone.

It's when the phone is in his grasp, and he starts pressing in the digits that it clicks.

He's going to call Kayle.

"No! Please, Josh please!" I scream, trying to grab the phone from his hands. I am unsuccessful in my drugged up state. But, I am determined to get Josh to not phone Kayle! That's one thing I have not lost; my determination. What I say goes, and if I really, really want something, or don't want something, I will get my way in the end. So, think quickly, Drake. Think! Think! Think!

With all the thinking that's going on in my head, I become disoriented and words begin spilling out of my mouth. Things that I never wanted to face.

"If he finds out, he'll hurt me!" I scream. Not even one second goes by before I continue screaming pathetically. "I don't like it when he hurts me, Joshie. I try to be a good partner, you know, being skinny, doing whatever he says... studying so I won't be as stupid... Like did you know that Animal Farm isn't ACTUALLY about animals? I didn't! Kayle taught me that. But, whatever I do, it's never enough. He still hits me. B-but it isn't his fault! It isn't! It can't be... His Dad made him messed up. Bryan touched him in dirty places where children should never be touched. He's just coping... And I deserve this, don't I? For not saving my Dad, this is my bad karma. Karma's come back to bite in the butt, Joshie. But still, if Kayle finds out that I got high again, he'll hurt me, and not let me eat for 3 days because MDMA has a lot of calories!" ... I don't know where that calorie thing came from, because I know that isn't true. Oh well!

"Again? What do you mean again? You've been high before?" Josh yells. After all that I've accidently said, that is what he chooses to listen too? Okie dokie! I'm fine with that.

"Ya.. but just once Joshie! A-and it was before I knew you, before you moved in! I went to a rave and ended up making out with a hot Jock. Kayle is still mad about that. He doesn't like hearing the stories of me with other people, especially guys. I'm bi, you know? ... Although, if I weren't with Kayle, I'd probably consider myself straight. I fucked a guy twice my age the first year of your university. Yupp, twice my age. It wasn't fun. It was 2 days before Christmas and I had just learned that we were about to be evicted and left to die and rot in the cold. I couldn't let that happen so I sold my body for 5,000 big ones. It worked, and we got the money. Other than that, I've fucked Kayle, and this one, at the time, 24 year old whack job who took too many steroids named Bob. I also fucked a lot of girls in High School. I can't remember what that's like, though. Sad face! I don't like fucking. It hurts. Always, always, always. I try to stay away from that, but Kayle usually gets his way, of course. I don't like it... it doesn't feel good... Oh, and this other time, I got in a fight with a drunk guy who was actually a police man, and I almost got arrested. By some miracle, though, I didn't! Another police officer took pity on me because Kayle hits me a lot. It hurts. But, it hurts worse when I phone home, leave a message Christmas day, and no one calls me back. Ever. Mom and Dad hate me, don't they? I thought people were supposed to love their kids, right? Oh well, I have Kayle. He loves me! He tells me evverrynight! I'm tired, Joshie..."

Halfway through my speech, I zoned out, annoyed by my high, child-like pitched voice at the moment. I don't know what I just said. Have I stopped talking? ... I think so!

"... You phoned on Christmas Day? When?" Josh asks me sympathetically.

"A couple years ago. Not too long ago..."

"Drake, Mom and Dad moved to a different house. They changed their phone numbers and everything. When I heard the news, I phoned you guys but Kayle answered. He told me that he'd tell you for me. So... he never gave you that message?" Joshie asks loudly. Too loudly. I put my hands over my ringing ears. In the same movement, I also look up at Josh, wide eyed. "... Mom and Dad moved?" I ask innocently.

"Ya, right after we both left. They realized that they didn't need as big of a house any more... Kayle never told you! Did he tell you that they've been phoning you every night for the past 6 years?" My ears perk up at what Josh just said. "What?" I ask quietly.

"When you left, it took them a month before they could phone you. After that, they have phoned you every-single-night for the past six years. Kayle _always_ answers the phone. He told them that you have a job that needs you to be there for 12 hour shifts. He told them that you're home after 7 pm, New York time. So, they believed him, and they've call you every night, to see if you're still not angry at them, to come home for a visit. Kayle just says the same thing. _Drake doesn't want to come to the phone, I am so sorry Mrs. Parker, call back tomorrow, as always I'll talk to him about how this is destroying you._ Or something among those lines. I knew it! I knew he never told you! Megan was right!"

"... Megan?" I ask pathetically.

"Ya, she didn't believe him 3 months into the nightly phone calls. She's been trying to get a hold of you in different ways, like emailing or mailing you a letter, but you never answered... That fucking bastard!" Joshie screams once again, slamming his hand against the wheel harshly. Poor wheel, it's going to get a bruise in the morning.

... I can't believe that Kayle would ever do that to me. He would never hurt me that badly in a million years! He knows how badly I've wanted to see them, and hear their voices... Joshie is lying. It can't be true! Not in a million years. Of course!

... Joshie's free arm looks cuddly and lonely and warm and cuddly. His arm is currently lying on the center console, resting. I grab it, hug it, and let my head fall against it. It's soft, and feels like a big, giant pillow. It's sturdy, a bit stiff, but safe. I don't know how a pillow feels safe, but this one does for sure.

"Go to sleep, Drake. I'll phone Kayle and tell him that since I hadn't seen you in 3 years, I offered for you to stay at my place so we could catch up. Don't worry, everything will be fine. We'll have a valid excuse as to why you won't be home tonight." Josh says harshly, voice wavering ever so slightly.

"If I won't be home tonight, then where will I be, Joshie?" I ask tiredly.

"Hotel or motel. Whichever. It doesn't matter, though. Just calm down, relax and try to go to sleep, we'll discuss this when you're sober..."

"Okay, Joshie. You know, I missed you... a lot. I couldn't stop thinking about you. If you were okay or not. I remember when I did sell my body, I was so scared of what you would think if you found out. You would probably be repulsed. Icky Drake is doing icky irresponsible stuff again, heh. Some things never change... no matter how much you want them too. I was so scared, Joshie. Especially by your reaction, it's a good thing I never told you that, or else you would know that I sold myself...I don't want you to know that I sold myself like the man-whore I truly am and forever will be... Just like Kayle says... I don't know what I'm saying anymore... Nighty-night Joshie."

I snuggle my head into the warmth, and I can feel Josh's arm shaking beneath my head. He begins sniffling, trying to fight back the tears he trying desperately to hold in.

It's so weird. I just let my heart out. Shit is going to go down tomorrow. I'll probably be close to death by the time Kayle is done with me. It's scary, but right now I don't care.

I'm completely content right now. I feel completely at ease with the world. The passing lights dancing gleefully outside my window. Josh's soft tears falling from his chin to my hair. The only sound is the silence of this car.

I'm not too happy, but I'm not too sad, either. I'm at complete bliss with the world.

I don't want anyone taking this the wrong way, because I don't want to die, but if I ever had to choose a moment where I had to die, I would choose now. No pain. Content. At ease. Relaxed. With someone I love. I don't want to die, but, again, if I had to choose, this would be the perfect moment.

Everything just feels right... and I know it isn't the MDMA that's making me feel this way.

It's me, with Josh. That's all I need.

... I realize now; that's all I ever needed.

* * *

><p>Chapppterr donnne<p>

I need to write a happy story where the characters aren't used, abused, neglected, and can be happy without drugs/alcohol... Kind of like the legit Characters on the show! (save Josh with the used and abused thing :p) But really, though. It's devastating that I cannot write an all round happy chapter -_-

Originally this Chapter was happy(er), but due to a copious amount of rewrites and trying to tie things in (or in this case, setting up some small and not very much needed stuff for the next few chapters), this chapter changed... it's more depressed than it was before. Damn, damn, damn!... but Josh is back! Yayyy? ! ? ...

And Juuusstt incase, I was not high when I wrote this (I have never done drugs - advil not included). I don't think it reads that way, so thats good! ... Or not good, depending on how you look at it. I don't know if this is the actual experience of somebody high off of MDMA, but I have seen A LOT of people on the drug, and it seems kind of accurate from an observers point of view... also, if anyone is wondering, the kleenex thing is an actual method to get high.

Review :)


	16. Chapter 15

Eek... I have a 10 minute French Oral Exam thats worth 40% of my mark about 'The Treatment of Animals in the Food Industry', so I have to learn about that and how to speak fluent French in less than 3 days because the exam is on Tuesday... I'm worried/nervous/freaking out. Eek!

And I really dont like this Chapter. It could have been so much better... Maybe the stress is the reason I don't like it? Is that possible? Nahh, well. To the story!

Disclaimer: I do not own Drake And Josh

* * *

><p>The morning after I got high, I remember waking up in a hotel. I was in the arms of someone. Who was that someone? Why, it was none other than Josh Nichols, who was... how do I put this in nice words... Hmmm, I can't... He wasspooning me. After he finally woke up, he continued to drive me home. We did not talk once about the morning predicament that involved spooning. Actually, he didn't even seem to notice that we spooned at all. I mean, I guess I shouldn't even be all that concerned for it, either. It's not like I enjoyed it or anything...<p>

Anyways, it was the strangest thing. When we arrived at my apartment, Kayle wasn't mad. He hugged me, saying that he was worried. I guess Josh, with hesitance, believed him because he left, telling me that he'll phone me with the address of his new New York house soon.

That night, around 7 pm I heard the phone go off. Kayle got up, saying that he'll answer it. At first, I thought that it was just a business associate, since Kayle's business partners always like to call around that time, or so he says. Kayle went into our bedroom, shut the door, and answered the phone. Little did he know that I followed closely behind. I hid behind the closed door, and listened as if my life depended on it. After 2 minutes of him saying 'yahuh', 'yup' and 'I'm sorry', the words that Josh told me the night before came out his Kayle's mouth. "_Drake doesn't want to come to the phone, I am so sorry Mrs. Parker. Call back tomorrow, as always I'll talk to him_. _He just doesn't understand what this is doing to you._"

That was over a year ago.

I have known, and been in a relationship with Kayle for more than six years now.

I am 24 years old.

... Wow. Time really flies, I guess.

* * *

><p>"What's on the schedule for this weekend, Kayle?" I ask from our couch. I'm lazing around watching yet another reality T.V show that won't make it to their second season. Celebrities in a Cab, it's called. It's not as good as Celebrities Under Water, but so far it is better than Celebrities on a Bus. The black remote is clutched tightly in my hand.<p>

"For you? I have no clue. For me? Well, Vince Mortella has invited me to go on a golfing trip tomorrow. After that? I have no clue." Kayle states from the kitchen. I can tell he's eyeing the beer on the top shelf.

"Where's Josh this weekend?" Kayle asks suddenly.

"I don't know, I think he has a meeting of some sort with the ministry of education, or something along those lines." I respond. Ever since Josh moved back, we have become a lot closer. We aren't as close as we were in High School, but we make sure to see each other at least once a week. I'm always a little worried about seeing Josh, though. I'm worried that one day he'll bring up what was said during my MDMA craze. I hope not. I regret ever saying those things to this day.

Oh, and by the way, Josh and Mindy have separated. Yes, I know, I was shocked too. Well, actually, they're like Ross and, who's that other chick, Rachel I think it is? From Friends? They're the annoying on again, off again couple. It's annoying, especially for me when I have to pick up the broken pieces that Mindy leaves of Josh every-single-time.

I hear Kayle sigh half heartedly, closing the door of the fridge and plopping down beside me on the couch.

"What's on T.V?" He asks with bitterness.

"Celebrities in a Cab." I reply with nonchalance.

I hear a cap open to my right, where Kayle is currently sitting. Within seconds, he's sipping the fizzing contents.

Ever since Kayle started drinking profusely, I learned how to decipher what type of drink it was by his antics, speech, breath and smell. When a person has a beer, it seems like the smell just oozes out of every pore on a person's body. At this moment in time, I can tell that Kayle fell for temptation. He went for the beer.

"It's 4 o'clock in the afternoon on a Friday." I state easily, not turning my head in his direction. My eyes are still locked on the T.V.

"What's it to me?" He demands. He takes another sip of his beer. More foul smells ooze from pores.

"You shouldn't be drinking." The grip of my hand holding onto the black remote is becoming tighter. I can feel it harshly indenting my skin.

"But, you said it was Friday." He says, taking another sip. I know that it is only to aggravate me.

"So?" I ask.

"It's Friday. That's a good enough excuse to drink. Whether it's at 9 am in the morning or 10 o'clock at night, I don't give a flying fuck."

" ...You got into the Tequila, haven't you." It's statement rather than a question when I say it. It comes out dryly, and I can see Kayle's muscles become tense.

"What's it to you?"

"... Apparently nothing." I say with a tinge of disgust in my voice.

"Exactly."

We sit together yet separated on the small, leather couch. Silence takes over. The only sounds emit from the T.V and Kayle's sipping.

I choose not to listen anymore.

* * *

><p>Later on in the night, between 9 and 11 pm, is when the chaos ensues.<p>

"You've gone to counselling! You have your dream job! You have a slave and a fuck buddy in this house at all times. Said slave and fuck buddy, is here for you at your every whim. You haven't seen your Dad or Carol for 6 years! Why-do-you-keep-drinking! Everything in your life is going perfectly, why fuck it up by drinking 24 hours of the _fucking _day?" I scream at Kayle, holding the top of a wooden chair for support.

"What the fuck does it matter to you!" He screams back at me, topping my angry tone.

"Because we are in a relationship? And when you're in a relationship, Kayle, it may not be like this for us, but normally the two people care about each other, especially when one has an addiction!"

"I do not have an addiction!" Kayle screeches.

"Yes you fucking do!" I scream.

This has happened at least two times a week, every week for the past 2 years. Nothing ever changes, but that doesn't stop me from trying.

Kayle stomps over to the side of the room, grabbing a golf club from his golfing bag. He brought it out earlier when he got home, just so he wouldn't have to do it tomorrow when he goes golfing with Mr. Mortella. It has been more than 5 years since the incident with Mr. Mortella, and shivers still shoot up my spine when I hear his name.

A couple years back, Mr. Mortella, his wife, Kayle and I all went to the Dominican Republic for a two week vacation. Mr. Mortella's wife was one hot babe. She had huge yet obviously fake breasts, but she more than made up for it with her incredibly hot body. She apparently owns a popular gym and even gives lessons there. The spinning and Bikram yoga classes that she teaches made her red hot bikini look even better against her tanned skin and dirty blond hair. Ya, if you couldn't tell, I totally checked her out. It wasn't my fault, she's only two years older than me... Mr. Mortella is a sick bastard isn't he? Or would it be his wife who's sick? Maybe it's both. I don't know, and don't I really care.

Anyways, to continue my story. While on this trip, Mr. Mortella cornered me after Kayle promptly passed out from alcohol consumption and his wife was at the lobby, listening to some Spanish band. He tried to get me to 'perform' with him again. Like Kayle, Mr. Mortella also had a lot of alcohol in his system, which I used as an advantage. I punched him, and his head slammed against the wall. He blacked out, and I ended up spending the night huddled up on the beach where, for some reason, was the only place I felt safe. It was dark. The stars shone down on me, keeping me company. The waves made it calming. The beach was owned by the hotel we were staying at, and had a large, electric fence keeping out any trespassers who tried to get to the 'all exclusive' food. I was completely safe.

The day after that, we flew back to New York, and Mr. Mortella was sent to the hospital for a severe concussion. It took him more than 3 months to heal properly. No one, except for me, knew how he obtained his head injury. Supposedly.

Mr. Mortella has never talked to me, come close to me, or even mentioned my name to Kayle ever since. None the less, the shivers still come when his name is called.

A smash of a vase snaps me out of thoughts.

I cross my arms and eye Kayle up, seemingly bored out of my gourde. His face has turned a violent red. His knuckles, now a pale white, have a death-like grip on the club. He's slowly yet steadily making his way towards me. My acting skills, although amazing in San Diego, have become even better, to the point of being fascinating in New York.

It's like what Leonardo DiCaprio's character said in "The Departed."

"_You sit there with a mass murderer, a mass murderer, your heart rate is jacked, but your hand... steady. That's one thing I about myself learned in prison, my hand does-not-shake."_

That's acting. A person is scared for their life and they know that if they don't appear steady, collected and calm, they know that hurt, pain and/or death is just around the corner, lurking. It's what I'm doing right now. Acting.

I sometimes wonder why I stay in this relationship. I really do care for Kayle. It's just, things have become unbearable. There are days where he knows that what he's doing is wrong, and tries every which way to make it up. Buying me guitars, planning day trips, calling in sick to spend the day on the couch with me so I won't be alone, watching movies... taking care of me when I can't lift myself off of our bed when he becomes too friendly with a girl named Tequila the night before... or a girl named Alcohol in general the night before...

If I could, I would leave. Johnny, Kayle's best friend from San Diego, came up to New York and lived with us for two months during the summer. He saw how Kayle treated me and tried to help me get a job so I could afford my own place. The only problem was that no place would hire me, I didn't have many talents or job experiences. Also, during those months, I could barely stand up on my own two feet let alone walk around New York. I couldn't stand for long periods of time before passing out due to lack of nutrition and well... Kayle's nightly binges that lead to the hitting.

There. I said it while I was sober. Kayle hits me. Kayle-hits-me. It's abuse. I love him. I don't have money. I can't get away from it. I might as well accept it and take it with dignity. I got myself into this situation therefore I shouldn't count on anyone else but myself to get me out of it.

"Hitting me with a golf club. That's original." I say.

"-The fuck are you talking about, Drake? I have never hit you with this before. I have never hit you before!" He screams, whipping the golf club towards me knee.

I dodge the flying object and continue talking. "Two weeks ago. Our bedroom. You slammed that thing into my rib. Almost broke it. You had to stay home for three days until I could walk without passing out from the pain."

"I don't believe you." He says viciously.

"That's new, Kayle." I laugh.

"Shut the fuck up!" Kayle yells. He lifts the golf club in the air, aiming it towards me. In slow motion, I can see it coming closer and closer towards my head.

I don't flinch.

"Drake!" A voice travels from my bedroom, followed by a man. Said man steps in front of me in an instance, grabbing the flying golf club from Kayle's hand and flinging it towards the couch. The tall, muscle toned stranger has short black hair that is only familiar to my eyes.

All is silent as Kayle stumbles, trying to understand what happened to the golf club.

"Josh?" I ask abashedly at the black haired man.

"Josh?" Kayle says, cocking his head to the side. "What the he- How did you get in here!" It is evident that Kayle has now returned to yelling.

"I-" Josh hesitates.

"This is the pent house suite!" Kayle emphasizes with a loud yell once again, his hands bashing against air.

"Uhh-" Josh stumbles.

"On an apartment building that has 47 floors!"

"W-well, y-you see-" Josh only stumbles over his words while he searches for the correct ones to say. In other words, Joshie is about to lie.

It's funny to see Josh still hesitate and stumble in his speech. It's a reminder that, even though it has been six long years, something's never change. It's a comfort, and due to the fact that Kayle is about to murder us both, comfort is much needed right now.

"How did you get in here!" Kayle shrieks and stomps towards Josh and I, forcing us to back up slowly. It catches my eye as Josh's arm extends out in front of my body, protecting me from any attack that could happen within the next few seconds.

I knew it was going to happen, but I feel my back press against the doorway, Josh soon follows. We're trapped and we both know it.

I peak my head out from behind Josh. I can hear his heavy breathing as Kayle slowly makes his way towards us, stumbling every so often from the tequila and beer.

How the hell _did _Josh get into our apartment? If we make it out alive, I'll try to remember to ask him... if my brain hasn't been to heavily damaged by that point.

Josh immediately bends over and grabs my shoes from the floor, along with my coat from the hanger beside him. He tosses them towards me, before Kayle can comprehend that Josh even moved.

Josh lowers himself and whispers with a soft voice. "Put them on. Now. I'm getting you out of here."

Hearing the words, I, for once, follow Josh's instructions. As soon as my shoes are somewhat on, and my Jacket is hanging lopsidedly on my lithe frame, Josh's hand makes its way around my arm tightly. It's a difficult reach for his arm, considering the fact that I am standing behind him, squished against the doorway.

"I'm a figment of your imagination, Kayle!" Josh yells determined.

Kayle stops in his tracks and once again cocks his head to the side. His mouth is hanging open slightly.

"...What?" Kayle asks cutely.

"I am a figment of your imagination! And, as a figment, I am here to collect the Duke of... Aparta-mint, Drake Parker, for a reunion which is due to a death... of a another duuuu- duchess! ... Who lives in San Diego... so we need to leave... now... to get to the Duchess of Sandy- Aygo's funeral... now." Josh says with hesitance.

Okay, even to me that was bad. Kayle would have to be out his mind and eye sockets to ever believe that, even when he is intoxicated.

"Ohhh. Okay! Du-duke of Aparta-mint-" Kayle begins, looking towards me. Our eyes meet, and I can see automatic sympathy. He believes Josh's story.

Go figure.

"-Go to your family, take as long as you need, I guess. Just be safe... Wait, if you're a figment, than why are you coming for Drake?" Kayle asks again, head still cocked to the side.

"Uh... There is... no... need... for you... t-to obtain that knowledge! If you need any information, just call the house of the Duke of Ah-May Zing. Me! ... Just remember, this never happened because I am just a figment of your imagination..."

"Figment?" Kayle's questions.

"FIGMENT!" Josh yells, once again, for emphasis.

With that Josh latches onto the door handle for dear life and rips it open, bonking us both in the head. Josh mumbles angrily but he doesn't hesitate. He understands that we need to leave now, so he recuperates in mere seconds and runs out the door, my arm still in his hand. I follow shortly after.

* * *

><p>"The Duke of Aparta-mint and the Duke of Ah-May Zing?" I laugh meekly in his car.<p>

"Well, dude, when someone is coming at my brother with a friggin' golf club, you say whatever you can to help said brotha' out." Josh replies seriously. Bastard. I needed that time of happiness. His being negative and realistic takes away from my pretending that everything is perfectly fine. Jerk...

"Well... Thank you, I guess. But, Josh, you just took me out of my own home, where am I supposed to go?"

"My house." Josh states as if I were the stupidest being on earth.

My eyes open with astonishment, even though he just openly mocked me. "You would allow to stay with you?"

Josh turns his head slightly toward me, eyes squinting slightly in shock. "Ya, ya. Of course, man. You're my brother."

"... Thanks Josh." The sound is no more than a mumble, so I am unsure as to whether Josh actually heard me.

"... Anyways, Josh, how did you get into my apartment?" I ask, my voice becoming loud once again.

Josh gives off a howling like laugh before answering. "Well, not going to lie, Drake, my friend lives right underneath you and Kayle. I knew that fact, so when he was complaining to me about how he wanted to move, due to the loud couple that lives above him, I told him I'd check it out. Y'know, make sure he wasn't over exaggerating or anything. It's funny. When we were younger, I always thought that you and Mindy were the loudest creatures on earth. Well, I learned something tonight. When angry, that boyfriend of yours is louder than both of you combined."

It hurts to hear out loud. Kayle being loud and annoying everyone else. I always tried to be quite. Poor neighbours. Everyone must hate us... "Okay, that doesn't really answer my question, though." I say, shaking my head from the incoming negative thoughts.

"Of how I got into your apartment?" Josh asks, eye's glancing upwards towards a street sign.

"Ya."

"Well, we tried knocking on your door, but that didn't work, and since you live in the pent house suite, you don't have any neighbours. I told my friend that I knew you guys, so if I could somehow get into your apartment, I'd stop the fighting. We found a ladder, brought it onto the balcony, and, truthfully I don't even know how we did it, but we were able to balance it against your balcony-"

"Isn't our balcony larger and right above your friends?" I interrupt, my question holding a quizzical tone.

"Uh-huh." Josh nods.

"So you had to point the ladder, not towards the wall, but _away_ from the building and-"

"D-don't try to figure out the mathematics of it. Just think of it as I climbed a ladder that was supported by nothing, but a man and air." Josh smiles.

... Holy shit.

"And you didn't fall?" I say in astonishment. Holy crap. That's... That's just fucking insane!

"I'm still here." He says.

"Obviously, but... wow. That's incredible Josh. I can't believe you did that."

"It's no problem, Drake. I knew you were in trouble, and since that last time I saw you.. was it 4 days ago? You had that large bruise on your chest, so I thought it might be a good idea to let it heal rather than let it become worse. So, I sucked up my fear of heights and the idea of plunging to my untimely death, and I shimmied up that god awful ladder to save your butt. Now you may thank me." He states, eyes latched onto the road ahead.

I can only blink. I'm shocked. Just shocked. No words can even being to describe my 'holy fucking hell, I can't believe _Josh_ really did that' paralyzed state.

"T-thanks... Josh." I finally stutter.

Josh lets out a meagre laugh, shooting me his humble smile.

"No problem."

* * *

><p>The minute we arrive at Josh's house, Josh thrusts me into a chair at the dinner table. I watch in silence as Josh heads into the kitchen and begins scavenging through the contents of his fridge.<p>

... After what feels like fifteen bazillion hours, I realize that Josh isn't coming back anytime soon, so I begin fiddling with the extravagant piece of wood that is Josh's dinner table. He paid a fortune for it too. It's apparently some really valuable piece of wood. Agar wood, I think it is. I just don't understand why someone would pay 5,000 dollars for a piece of wood, that was carved by some crappy furniture guy over 400 years ago in war torn England. Geesh, I just don't get it.

Josh staggers back into the room, hands filled with food and drinks. He places a warmed plate in front of me, filled to the brim with a rack of ribs, multi-grain rice... what looks to be some kind of little bead things, and boiled carrots. I haven't seen a meal like this in years.

He sets the same meal in his seat right beside me, hastily putting down to glasses of ice cold water as well. I can't believe he could carry all that. Josh had always been so clumsy. He could be a top notch waiter... if he weren't Dean, of course. Maybe he could be a waiter as a second job?

I grab the fork that has been placed in front of me, and begin picking at one of the many little, beady bal; thingies.

"What is this?" I ask, deeply disturbed.

"It's quinoa. It's really good for you." He says, beginning to eat his 'quinoa'.

I look at the clump of food, having no idea where to even start.

"Umm, Josh?" I say quietly.

"Ya, Drake?" Josh asks, swallowing his mouth full of food.

"... I don't think I can eat all of this." I confide regretfully.

Josh lets out a forceful sigh. "You know? I've been thinking, you still haven't contacted Mom or Dad, have you?" Josh says calmly, forcing my thoughts away from the food in front of me.

"Josh, I don't really want to talk about that." Josh doesn't listen to anything I say as he continues talking with a mouth full of food.

"Mom has been dealing with depression since you left. I think hearing your voice, and explaining to her the situation you're in, just about the fact that Kayle hasn't ever given you the messages, not about the abuse, would help her out a lot."

"Josh-"

"Phone her."

"But she-"

"Phone her." He repeats.

"I... fine! I will, just not tonight. I think you forcing me out of my house is more than enough shock for a while."

Josh smiles, proud of himself for getting me to agree to something that was not my idea.

"Good." Josh says, putting yet another forkful of food into his mouth. "Now eat."

I smile, realizing that, hey, I've already agreed to doing a couple of things that were against my will tonight; lie to Kayle, leave the house without a job, and the potential phone call to my Mom. Eating a full meal at dinner is just another thing to add to the list.

And it's all thanks to Josh.

* * *

><p>It has been four days since Josh brought me out of my apartment. He phoned Kayle the next morning and told him that there had been a death of a distant relative and, for some reason, it was crucial for me to go to the funeral in San Diego. Kayle couldn't disagree since, according to Josh, we were already in San Diego and all flights back were booked. Josh also phoned the university, and was able to get a short leave of absence. He said that if he wasn't the Dean, or if he wasn't such a good Dean, taking leave would have been like escaping Alcatraz.<p>

The longer time passes, the more on edge I become.

I know pain is coming soon, and waiting around for it to pop up is the worst possible torture anyone can go through.

It's like when Me and Josh thought that we killed Megan's hamster, and to get us back... she didn't. She let us get back at ourselves... if that makes sense.

Only back than the fear was of Megan's revenge. Now, it's for mine and Josh's life. If I don't go home soon, and if Kayle finds out that Josh lied, we're both dead.

On the other side, if Kayle doesn't find out right away, I am going to kill myself wondering when he will find out.

"It's normal to act like that, Drake. It's alright."

I feel my head in my hands, shaking itself back and forth. Me and Josh are currently in the car, driving until I stop freaking out. The stress has enveloped me, and it will not let go.

I need to calm down.

"T-turn on the music." I demand. I can hear Josh shift uncomfortably in his seat as he goes to turn on the radio. A male's voice yells its way through the car, a patronizing guitar follows closely behind.

"-_I don't mind, How hateful that I can be" _

I don't know how far along the song is, but that doesn't matter. As long as that is where my concentration lies, I can forget everything that just happened.

"_Sometimes I don't try, to make you happy." _The male voice sings.

"Listen, Drake-" Josh starts. I slam my fist against the dashboard, interrupting his oncoming speech. "Josh, just be quiet." I whimper desperately. "Please."

"_I don't know why I do, the things I do to you but..."_

Me and Josh had been in the grocery store, buying food for tonight's supper.

"_Sometimes I don't wanna be better, sometimes I can't be put back together, -" _

We were alone in the soup aisle, acting immaturely. Hitting each other, punching, laughing, joking. We were acting like 13 year old boys, without any troubles what's so ever. As it seems, though, fate has something against me. I could feel the hairs on the back of my neck stand up. Being me, I tried to ignore them and concentrate on Josh's voice, asking me what kind of soup would be best for dinner.

"_sometimes I find it hard to believe there's someone else who could be, just as messed up as me." _The singer's voice echoes through the radio.

"Drake, you've been through hell. Having a reaction like that _is natural." _Josh says calmly.

Ya, natural my ass.

"_Sometimes don't deny, that everything is wrong-"_

I could hear the footsteps approaching from behind me. With every soft step against the tiled floor, I tensed. I knew what was coming.

"_Sometimes rather die, than to admit it's my fault."_

I tried to remain calm, but I couldn't. A large silhouette was standing behind me. I could feel all the air forced out of my lungs in fear. I couldn't breathe.

It felt like my feet all of sudden had souls who had the same feelings as I did. Cut my losses and run. I didn't, but the souls of my feet did. They listened to the supernatural voices. I didn't. My feet left me paralyzed. Without their souls, my brain couldn't contact them, tell them to move. I was paralyzed in the position my feet left me in. I couldn't move.

"_Sometimes when you cry, I just don't care at all."_

I turned my waist slightly, just so I could see the man hovering over me.

All I could see was a hand making its way to my shoulder. There was a glimpse of short, blond hair, and green eyes.

"_I don't know why I do the things I do to you but..."_

The hand landed successfully on my shoulder. Truthfully, I don't even know what happened next. All I know is that the souls of my feet had come back and rescued me. With them, came my fight or flight reaction. I chose fight, in fear of mine and Josh's life.

Kayle had found us.

"_Sometimes I don't wanna be better. Sometimes I can't be put back together."_

I turned around, smacking the arm as hard as I could. With the force of my swing, my body flew backwards, hitting into the shelf of Campbell's soups. A pained grunt escaped the man's lips, but I didn't have time to let the bitter taste of satisfaction grace my lips.

The objects began falling beneath me. Beside me. Over top of me. Everywhere around me.

One of the items landed with a thud on my head. Pain, just like I had predicted, had made its way back to me. I greeted it as an old friend. A sorrowful smile placed on my face.

"_Sometimes I find it hard to believe there's someone else who could be just as messed up as me."_

From years of experience had taught me, I took the pain. As the searing heat crossed from both my temples, a whimper escaped my lips. My legs fell to the ground like jelly.

I placed myself in a fetal position.

"_I want someone to hurt like the way I hurt."_

Josh was at my side in seconds, securing me from the sights of passing customers.

The man who I had slapped away was beside Josh, asking if we needed to call an ambulance. I could see from my position that he was holding his left wrist protectively.

I must have broken it... or sprained it at most.

"_it's sick but it makes me feel better."_

Josh reluctantly disagreed. Josh's hand was placed soothingly on my back, trying to stop my from rocking back and forth.

Back and forth.

Back and forth.

We all tried to ignore the flinches that shook my body when Josh patted my back.

I didn't want to be touched, but none of my nerve cells were working. I couldn't bat Josh away.

The man tried to help me stand up along with Josh, but as his good hand neared my back, the hairs began sticking up again.

I screamed.

Loudly.

"_Sometimes I don't wanna be better."_

Within seconds, I was lifted and hauled from the store before I could create more disgrace for Josh's name. Disgrace, and severe embarrassment.

"_Sometimes I can't be put back together-"_

I was placed in the car, still in a frightened state. Josh immediately got into the driver's seat and began driving as far away from the store as humanly possible.

At the moment, we're driving around the suburban areas of New York. The one's with lots of trees on the concrete sidewalks, and couples kissing on the benches. It's the seemingly most carefree place in the world. I still haven't moved my knees from my cheek, and my hands from my ears.

"The man is a friend of mine, you know? I saw him approaching so I waved at him. I've been meaning to introduce you two for a while, and I guess he put two and two together. Maybe that's why he came up behind you and leaned against your shoulder... he's just that type of guy..."

"Josh... I-" My voice cracks.

"_Sometimes I find it hard to believe-"_

And that's when my head begins to understand everything the singer from the radio has said. Every word enters my mind.

"_there's someone else who could be just as messed up as me."_

Kayle. He's put me through more physical pain than anyone else in my life.

"_Sometimes I can't hide-"_

Back when he first met, he hid all of his secrets. He was scared of what I might've said. What I might have thought of him.

"_The demons that I face."_

_... _This song.

"_Sometimes don't deny"_

It's Kayle.

"_I'm sometimes sinner"_

This song is Kayle.

"_Sometimes saint"_

_It's Kayle._

"_Sometimes I don't wanna be better."_

Kayle, I tried to help you.

"_Sometimes I can't be put back together"_

I wanted to help you. I couldn't handle seeing you in pain. I couldn't handle seeing anyone in pain anymore.

"_Sometimes I find it-"_

I thought that if I helped you, everything would be put back into place. My life would be right again.

"_hard to-" _

I tried.

"_believe-"_

Why did everything screw up?

"_There's someone else-"_

Why did you lie?

"_who could be-"_

Why are you hitting me?

"_There's someone else-"_

I tried to help.

"... Drake?" Josh's way makes its way to my conscious.

"_Just as messed up -"_

Why?

"_as me."_

It isn't true.

"_Just as messed up-"_

Be quiet.

"_as me..."_

Shut up.

"_Just as"_

It isn't true.

" _messed up"_

as_ me..."_

"Shut up!" I yell as my hand makes it way to the radio, smashing it completely.

"Drake!" I hear a car door open and close. I remain in my seat in shivering silence.

I sit in a cold sweat until another car door opens.

A slight cool breeze brushes itself against covered armed. Covered with a long-sleeve black shirt, just so the bruises aren't seen by anyone.

"... Drake?"

I turn my neck, looking at Josh. We're parked along an empty sidewalk, and Josh is at my side.

"... Josh-" I say brokenly.

I've kept my cool all these years. I've tried so hard. Then, all of a sudden, I'm free for a couple of days, and this mental breakdown comes out of nowhere.

I couldn't control myself.

Josh closes his eyes and lets out a deep sigh. He, being the kind person he is, grabs my shoulders and brings me into a protective hug.

I flinch.

His hands are moving in soothing circles on my back.

This causes me to flinch again.

I wish I could have said, 'hug me, brotha!' It would have felt like old times, rather than the reality that is now.

"You can't keep doing this, Drake." Josh says firmly. I just nod my head.

"I can't keep worrying if you're alright or not." He whispers solemnly.

I, once again, nod my head firmly.

"We need to get you away from Kayle." He says.

Being in Josh's warm embrace after having a slight mental breakdown does strange things to a person because I nod my head firmly.

I love Kayle, but I'm scared. Whether it'll be Kayle who beats me to my death, or I kill myself from the stress, fear and anxiety with comes with the possible beatings, I'm scared.

... I need to get away.

Before it costs me my life.

* * *

><p>Chappterr donne!<p>

I'm sorry about the length! :'( This also Chapter almost killed me. Writing it and, also, I had to go back to read the description of Kayle that I gave in Chapter 2 (The appearance of him changed in my head around chapter 5.) So, wanting to stick with the story, I had to go back and read Chapter 2 and... oh... my... god. I couldn't handle it. It was so bad. I've realized that I can't read any of my beginning chapters, and I cringe even thinking about them :/ Hah, ahh well, that always happens to me though, so it's nothing new :p

The song used in this Chapter is 'Sometimes' by Skillet. The BIGGEST thanks to **CoogrrrShae** for finding the song and giving it to me! (THank,youthankyou,tahnkyou, thankyouthankyouu X a billion!). I think I legit started crying when I heard it! Why? It describes Kayle perfectly! I was super stoked on life, although I don't like how I used it in this Chapter. It just doesnt work in my mind... gahhh, I feel like I ruined a perfectly good song that could have made SUCH a good scene. Maybe it's just the stress.

-_- I cannot wait until next weekend. My French Oral Exam will be long gone after that. Stress be gone!

Review :)


	17. Chapter 16

Heyy everyone, sorry for the late update! There's this little thing called life that has gotten in the way of my writing :p Life, work, homework, and boys. So much fun to deal with, huh? Happy it's finally Christmas break :) I will hopefully get alot of writing done then, I'm so close to finishing! And here we go, off to start another longgg Chapter... I'm sorry!

I'm also sorry if there are any (or many) nerve wracking grammatical and spelling errors that I didn't catch.

Disclaimer: I do not own Drake and Josh

* * *

><p>As we walk through Josh's house, I notice Josh's bounce in his walk. It's from his new found determination.<p>

I walk slowly behind, unsure if our idea to 'plan-to-get-me-away-from-Kayle-safely' will even work. It's only a plan, but I still don't know if I want to go through with it. The person I've spent the last _six years_ with is just going to be thrown out of my life? Even if I do get away, I'm still going to worry about him. After all the abuse, after everything he has put me through, I still can't help but feel bad about even planning to leave him. He really, truly doesn't deserve it. The worst part? He doesn't even know it's coming. That's the most heartbreaking thing of all. His ignorance of the possible oncoming situation.

Then again, if I think about it, maybe I'm ignorant too. I have no idea what's going to happen. Kayle might find out. He might not. Maybe someone who's close to him, like Mr. Mortella, who can find anybody, might find out. I don't know which would be worse. Being found out by Kayle, or by Mr. Mortella. Bad things could happen either way. And the 'bad thing' is only planning on leaving Kayle for my own safety. Everything is fucked, I've realized.

Josh, who has no knowledge of my insecurities and fears, bounces back into the room, pieces of paper and pens in hand. His wonky smile is placed modestly on his face.

He walks around his expansive table, sits in his chair, and pats the old wood happily. He's telling me to come over.

I oblige and sit in the chair to Josh's right.

"Okay, so, if we're going to do this, we're going to have to write down everything that has happened. Beginning to end. Got it?" Josh states.

I nod my head in understanding, although I'm disgusted at the thought of having to tell Josh everything.

"Now, Kayle is a high class citizen. He probably pays more than half of the police's salaries, so that could produce a probl-"

Realizing where he's going, I cut Josh off mid sentence. "Not really, but Kayle has a lot of friends in the Police and FBI. The money isn't the issue, it's the friendships. They aren't going to charge him with assualt if he's a close friend of theirs."

Josh places his pen to his lips and bites the top while thinking. After mere seconds, he begins to nod his head.

"That is a good point." He says. "But, not every person in the police force in all of NY is a friend of Kayle's. We just need to report him to the 'right' police force. God knows how we'll find that, though..." He sighs.

I grab a black ball point pen and mimic Josh's movement by biting the tip. "Okay, say we do find the right 'police force' or whatever. What evidence are we going to show to them. Giving them a list of everything he's done to me isn't evidence. It's just my word against his._" _I say honestly.

Josh smiles as if he's been waiting for me to say this. "Yes, but you have witnesses. I know about what is going on, I have known since we were 17, and I'm the Dean of NYU. I'm in a well known position, therefore my word can be trusted. I know Megan would be more than willing to be a witness for you, she's good at bullshitting people. And, also,-" Josh pulls a hand through his hair, obviously nervous my reaction for what he's about to say. He gives a long sigh and closes his eyes tiredly before he continues.

"- I know you may hate the idea, butMindy is an incredible Lawyer. She is more than willing to defend you, for a small charge, if push comes to shove and you need a lawyer." He says, his smile lopsidedly plastered onto his face.

My mouth gapes open slightly.

_Creature? _

_...Mindy?_

Ew.

"M-m-miiin... _Creature_ is willing to help me? Wait... How-when did she ever say that she would that? How did she figure it out? Josh, I swear to god if you-" My voice rises in desperation as I continue to speak.

Josh promptly slaps a hand against my lips. "I-did-not-tell-her." He says, pointing his index finger in my face. "She figured it out. The girl unfortunately, or in this case fortunately, has a brain bigger than Einstein, Newton, Mozart, Beethoven, Van Geoghe, Da Vinci and Gottfried Wilhelm von Leibniz all meshed together."

I cock my head to side, my eyes questioning whatever the H. E double hockey sticks Josh just said.

... By the way, doesn't it take a normal person, like, 8 years to become a lawyer? Go figure. Of course Mindy would be able to do it in less than six. Pufft.

"Never mind!" Josh cries. "She'd be a valuable asset. She hasn't lost a court case to date! Also, if we take some photo's of your bruises now, and scars, there's even more evidence." Josh says with innocent laugh.

I nod my head once again, becoming more accepting of this situation.

Josh begins playing with the pen in his hands, sliding the cap on and off. Slowly, he brings the pen down to paper and sighs.

"Before all that though, we need to go through everything that has happened. Absolutely everything. Beginning to end. I'm not sure if we need how you met and everything, but it could help your case if-"

"If it makes it to court." I snort.

Josh ignores what I just said, and begins tapping the paper with his pen in agitation.

"For now, let's just discuss the history of abuse. When did he first hurt you, physically, emotionally, or mentally." Josh asks me as if he's asking a fourth grader what 4 divided by 2 is.

I drop the pen to the table and let head fall into my hands. This is not what I want to think about. I don't even know where it all began. Shaking, a squeak peeps out an 'I don't know' from my throat.

"I don't know for sure-" Josh begins. "But it was probably the... you know... the... umm.. bl... the bllll... the thing in the kitchen when Kayle first came to dinner." Josh cries out, immediately connecting pen to paper and writing rapidly.

I lift my face from my palm an watch as Josh easily writes it onto paper. Thinking about it, I can still feel _it,_ thrusting down my throat. The tears running down my face. The burning sensation as I choked.

_"Oh god, Drake. Suck, Suck it you slut! Suck it like the dirty whore you really are!"_

I shudder as the words enter my mind.

And as Josh writes, I can't help but feel malignity. It's just words. Written. With a pen that was made by some poor kid in China. Really, the ink itself has no effect. The actual situation was so much more worse than words can ever describe it on a damned piece of paper.

"Okay, so, I described the situation by how I saw it. I wrote it down as physical harm, and verbal abuse. You know... with the whore comment and all..." Josh exhales.

I want to throw this damn pen into the window and watch the glass shatter. I don't give a flying fuck right now. I want to yell at Josh, who is just trying to help, and tell him that, you know what? Kayle was right! I am a whore. Kayle was just being fucking honest at that point in time. Fuck!

Josh doesn't sense any of my seething and continues writing.

And as I watch, I can't help but notice the word _Rape, April 1__st__._

"What's that?" I bark at him, the sneer evident in my voice. It's unclear if Josh simply doesn't hear it, or if he chooses to ignore it.

"What's that?" I question again, this time a little more gently.

"... The night you came back with blood crusted onto your legs. You 'claimed' that you and Kayle had just had sex."

I raise my eyebrow at Josh. "Ya, so?"

Josh groans and looks at me intently. "Drake... You can't possibly think for a moment that I actually believed that story."

"What do you mean?" I ask, biting coarsely on the tip of my pen.

"... Drake. There was no way that what happened was consensual."

"Well, too bad, because it was." I reply with harsh words.

"Drake-"

"_Because you fucked him! And you've fucked every girl in San Diego! And yet, you refuse to fuck me, Kayle, your boyfriend of almost 2 months, practically 3!" _Kayle's voice once again rings in my ears.

"- I can't believe that you actually thought I believed that stupid story. After seeing you that night, _fuck,_ I just... " Josh states immediately.

"_I know you do. Sluts like you always want it." _His whispers won't leave me alone. It feels like he's hovering over my body for the first time again...

"Has there ever been any consensual sex between you two? Because we can charge him for marital rape." Josh asks, creating permanent lines in the paper with the blue ink.

_"And since you're a slut, you want it. And since you said you love me, you want me. Unless you lied, but you didn't lie to me, did you, Drake? Because I'd really have to hurt you if you lied to me..." _I slam my hands against my ears to try and stop the noises. Oh, god, I just want them to stop. I want them to leave me alone. I want Kayle to leave me alone.

_"You don't know how long I've been waiting for this." _It whispers.

"Shut up!" I scream. Josh jumps from his seat by the sudden intrusion of silence. He is by my side in an instant.

"_Do you know what two people do when they're in love?" _Kayle asks.

"Hey, come on. Come on. It's going to be okay. It'll be alright. I promise." As always, the flinches never cease to be non-existent when Josh's hand makes contact with my back.

"_They make love." _His voice once again laughs wistfully through my head. I can feel myself shaking by the repulsion of the scenario.

I let it happen.

"It's never really been consensual." I say softly.

Josh can only sigh. He doesn't know how to handle this. Truthfully, if I were in Josh's shoes, I would have probably run away long ago. I would have no idea how to help somebody in this situation... even if I _could _sympathize, heh...

"Every single time we've... done something, it's never been consensual... Not since I offered to give Kayle the blowjob, that is. I... it hurts. It always hurts. I t-try to keep away from it as much as I can but.. I, _fuck..."_

... I am so weak. I may not be crying, no, I will not stoop to that level. But, just listening to my voice in that pathetic tone. It's sickening.

Josh tugs my arm, loosening the grip of my hands on my ears. "Come on, we'll do this later. Let's go out for a bit." He whispers softly as to not scare me.

With one last sniffle, I somehow manage to follow Josh out to the car.

Every horrible thing that has happened seems to be flying out the window, one by one. They're letting me rest for a while, worry free.

The only problem is that you can only escape your problems for so long.

* * *

><p>After two hours of mini-putt... and being kicked out of the mini-putt, me and Josh return home.<p>

"You idiot." I say, still laughing.

Josh slumps through the doorway, his hand placed strategically on his forehead. He's hiding the goose egg that he put there himself.

"It wasn't my fault!" He cries.

"Yes it was! You just had to go and gloat about your minor in physics and show that you could, in fact, put the golf ball in the hole by bouncing it off of the giant monkey's head."

It was the funniest thing I think I've seen in awhile. While me and Josh were at the mini putt place, Josh accidently eavesdropped on the couple playing in front of us. They were apparently physicists from Japan, doing research on... well, something physicists do experiments on. Josh tried to explain it to me. It had to do with gravity in Japan vs. Gravity everywhere else and something to do with the Theory of Relativity... I think?

Josh, being Josh, became really excited and wanted to discuss their research with them. He started gloating loudly about his Physics minor, or in Josh's term, 'a secondary concentration', to grab their attention. He began talking about velocity, and speed, and time as he set-up his golf ball.

It worked, and it caught the Japanese Physicist's attention. They told him that if he could accurately transfer the ball from the placement of the ground, to the monkey head 21.543 ft. away, and have the ball arrive in the hole within 8.235 seconds, they would discuss their research with Josh.

All I could think was, who the hell talks like that? It seemed so... high tech. Robot like. The way they spoke didn't faze Josh though, so he accepted the challenge.

Well, he was able to accurately transfer the golf ball to the Monkey's head, but he didn't take into account the fact that there was a plastic palm tree right in front of the hole. The point of the #12 mini putt, the one we were on, was to aim and hit the ball_ around_ the Palm tree, and still make the it reach the hole.

The ball bounced off the Monkey's head, hit the tree and landed with a thud on Josh's head. He let out a stunned scream as he fell to the ground. I just stood there with my arms crossed. I was rather bored. There was a hamburger place just down the street, so that's where my thoughts lied.

The Japanese Physicist's laughed and continued playing, and me and Josh were thrown out because we indented the Monkey's head, and Josh's boisterous gloating of his 'secondary concentration' had disrupted the fun for some other players...

We did end up going to the hamburger place, though! Josh got 30% off of his BLT sandwich because we told the person, who was taking our order, that the red thing attached to Josh's giant head was from a car accident that he had recently gotten into.

"Ya, well... They were doing research! I wanted to help." He pouts.

"Ya, you did a great job with that, didn't ya?" I tease easily.

We fall silent.

Josh's eyes begin leaping around, panic settling in his forehead.

"What is it, Josh?" I ask.

"Well... You know how Mindy broke up with me a few weeks back?"

I'm slightly taken aback. This is not what I was expecting. None the less, I nod my head to Josh's question as to not be rude.

The break-up was before Josh took me out of my place. It had been pretty nasty too. Josh hadn't given me the details, but I just remember coming into Josh's house, his favourite picture frame smashed to pieces on the ground. I found Josh huddled next to the transparent fire in the fire place, a blanket draped over his head to muffle his bawling. It took 3 hours to get Josh moving, another 4 to get him into the shower. It took a total of 3 days before Josh even stepped onto his porch, even if it was for 30 seconds to grab the morning paper...

"Well, one of the reasons she broke up with me was because she said I wasn't 'romantic' enough. She said that I didn't surprise her, or make her romantic fantasies come true." Josh confides.

"Romantic fantasies?" I question, raising my eyebrows. I almost laugh, but seeing Josh's unease with the situation, I stifle my laugh.

"Ya, you know? Like... being serenaded with white rose petals while hearing a ballad on the ukulele. Having your initials written by a plane above the city for everyone to see. Walking along the beach in the moonlight, talking about nothing and everything all at the same time." Josh says with his eyes glazed over, mouth dangling open from the dreams of his imagination.

Ohh... Truthfully, those all sound gay beyond belief, although I guess I shouldn't be talking.

"Dude, Mindy likes to drag people down, beat them with a stick, and leave them huddled up in a bloody pulp in an alleyway. She says mean things to get to you, because she knows you'll come running back." I say to Josh as gently as possible. I have never liked this girl, so coming up with cruel things about her is a pass time for me.

Josh, still in a day dream, recognizes the sound of my voice, for his head begins to nod slowly.

"Yeah, she's right too." He says with a doleful expression.

"What do you mean?" I inquire, my eyebrows still raised.

"I want to win her back." Josh announces. He slams his fist into his palm, telling me that he means business. There is a determined gleam in his eye. Whenever Josh is determined, nothing gets in his way.

That's one thing I admire about Josh. Nothing gets in his way when he's determined.

"How?" I ask, continuing my interrogation on Josh. Well, he interrogated me earlier, this is just pay back... Even if Josh does want to spill his secrets, whereas I wanted to throw mine into a deep dark vault and let them rot forever. Josh has always been one to wear his heart on his sleeve, so I guess wanting to tell me what is bothering him shouldn't take me by surprise.

"I've been planning it for awhile." Josh begins, interrupting my thoughts. "I'm going to make her her favourite dinner. Duck a l'orange with white wine. I'm going to set up a little table for two just near the window. I'll drape the long white linen cloth that Grammy gave me for Christmas last year over the table, and put a bouquet of roses in the center as a decoration. After that, I'm going to bring her into the living room where I'll put on her favourite song. She's smart, so she'll figure out that I'm going to ask her to slow dance with me. After that... I'll let fate take its course." He says. I watch as his smile begins to increase and increase as he tells me his plan.

"...Wow... that's... planned." I say. I'm not a very lovey-dovey person, so this idea is rather disturbing to think about, especially when _Mindy_ is the person in the idea.

"Ya, but I only have one problem." Josh says.

"What is it?"

"I can't really dance, and I want to do this within the next three days, so..." Josh eyes me up questioningly. Oh no...

Taking the hint, my shoulders drop in annoyance. "But Joshhhhh." I whine. I dread the thought of what Josh is about to ask me. The painful part is that, if he does ask me, I won't be able to say no.

"Please, Drake! Please! I mean, I'm already helping you with Kayle, so I just thought that maybe, just maybe, you could help me with this?" He raises his shoulders to his ears, eyes blinking innocently. He's giving me the puppy dog look. Damn that look.

"I... Well...-" Giving out an exasperated sigh, I walk into the living room and wait anxiously for Josh. I never could say no to him.

"I'm just guessing that I'm assuming the role of the girl?" I say. In reality, I'm taking Mindy's role, but I just don't want to think of it that way. I would love to be Josh in this little dance practice thingy-ma-jig, but Josh wouldn't learn that way. So... I'm stuck with Creatures future role for now...

Damn it.

Josh perks up immediately and walks over to his large stereo. His new stereo is placed on the wall just beside the fireplace. My guess is that the song is already in there, because Josh presses play, and music begins to fill the room.

A piano begins slowly along with a soft drum. Within seconds, a guitar picks up, giving the song a Hawaiian feel to it.

"... Elvis Presley?" I ask.

Josh nods, staying in close quarters with the stereo. It's like he's afraid to practice.

"Can't Help Falling in Love. They played it at her parent's wedding." He states nervously. I can see his adam's apple bob up and down as he takes a gulp of air.

"Ohh." I say, digging the ball of my foot into the ground awkwardly.

"_Wise men say-" _Elvis begins singing softly and admiringly.

I look up at Josh who is still nestled away in the corner. He's hiding.

Sensing his cowardly side kicking in, I lift my hands out towards him. "This is my only time doing this," I grin. "I am not taking Mindy's role again." Laughter forces its self out of my mouth. I have to get Josh over here. If he's nervous with me, will he be even more nervous with Mindy?

"_Only fools rush in."_

Josh's adams apple bobs once again as he walks over to me. He takes my left hand into his right, and wraps his other shakily around my waist.

"_But I can't help-" _Taking a breath, Josh takes a nervous step sideways, and we stumble. I throw my hand from his shoulder to his back, holding it tightly. This stops us from falling down in only the first few beats.

"Come on, it's easy." I say grinning, trying to ease the uneasy tension created by Josh.

" _falling in love-"_

"Just relax." I loosen the tight grip on Josh's back when Josh has fully recovered. He is back on his feet in mere seconds. He takes a deep breath, and begins to lead.

"_With you."_

Josh's palm is sweaty underneath of mine. I ignore the perspirations and try to focus on the movement of Josh's feet.

"_Shall I stay-" _The sound of Elvis' voice as he begins hitting the higher notes is enchanting. It's slowly taking away the nervousness that both me and Josh feel.

Right... Backwards... Left... Forwards... Repeat. Josh is only moving us, slowly, around in a box shape. For the rhythm of the song, doing any other step just wouldn't work. Josh really has thought of everything. He's going to swoop Mindy off of her feet.

"_Would it be a sin-"_

The warmth that Josh's body generates pulls me in subconsciously.

"_If I can't help-" _

I place my head a little closer to his chest.

"_falling in love-"_

I grip his shoulder just a little tighter_._

"_with you."_

I pretend like I don't feel both of our heartbeats quicken at the same time.

"_Like a river flows"_ I let a smirk fall onto my face when I hearElvis's voice wavers up at the last beat.

Josh lowers his head to let his chin rest easily on my shoulder.

"_surely to the sea-"_

He leans his head against my own.

"_Darling so it goes"_

If it was possible, Josh's arm around my waists pulls me in closer.

"_Some things are meant to be."_

Being in his arms feels familiar. It's strange, and something inside of me wants to go run away and hide. Instead of listening and running, I stay. The protectiveness of his arm creates a safe haven for me.

"_Take my hand," _

I'm reminded of my first dance with Kayle. How upbeat and fast it was. I was impaired, young... er, and having the time of my life. Me and Kayle grinded and he lifted me up in the air. We twirled. We were on the top of the world. Everything was going so fast, and I let it.

"_take my whole life too"_

That moment in my life is in stark contrast to this. This song is slow, and is nowhere close to upbeat. It's about love, and wanting to be with that love. I'm hugging Josh, and trying to get as close to him without the unnecessary grinding that me and Kayle were practicing.

It's just me and Josh. We know we aren't on top of the world. We understand that, and have come to terms with it.

The first dance was chaotic and lively. This dance is soft and achingly heartbreaking,

"_For I can't help"_

The first dance was caused by loneliness and feeling abandoned and unwanted by my family. For Kayle, he was trying to get over his ex-boyfriend.

"_falling in love with you."_

This dance was caused by loneliness and need on both mine and Josh's parts. For Josh, he's getting over his ex-girlfriend and is trying to get back together with her.

When I think about it, both dances have similarities. But this one has more meaning. This is the one I will forever remember. Not the exotic blur of the Jazz club in downtown San Diego. No. I'm pretty sure that, for the rest of my life, I'll think of the familiarity that Josh's arms created when they hung low on my waist.

"_Like a river flows_"

We sway back and forth in eachother's arms as the bridge begins. The beat picks up as does Josh's pace. We adjust accordingly, this time without any disturbances or stumbles.

"_surely to the sea-"_

Josh doesn't switch his direction before telling me moments in advance by squeezing lower back. He switches the the footing as I begin to move my right foot. Feeling the change, I take my right foot back and move my left foot instead. Left foot... backwards... right foot... forwards. It happens with ease, and we continue our little, never ending circle.

"_Darling so it goes."_

As Josh takes a deep breath, sucking in my scent, he tightens his grip around me. He's at complete ease with his situation. All feelings of nervousness are now thrown out the window...

I'm beginning to feel uncomfortable. His hands are gripping to lower back tightly, and...

I like it.

... Am I only being used here? I thought this dance was for Mindy. When did mine and Josh's bodies become so pressed together that we're sharing each other's body heat? When did we become so attached that it feels like if we both let go, we'll break?

"_Some things are meant to be"_

A scenario makes its way into my head. Pictures of the day Josh left for University. He was in our room, all alone, battling against his emotions. His emotions won, and he took the brunt of the beating. I rejected him, and he was left alone for 5 years.

I may have been getting hurt every now and then, but I had Kayle. I had someone. Josh didn't.

As Josh presses his lips against the hair above my ear softly, I know Josh had been hit harder with the loneliness then he lets on.

_"Drake, I knew it. I love you. And not just like a brother! I-i've been dealing with these feelings since last Christmas, when I realized that we'll probably never have another adventure like that __again__ with each other. I thought that if I put distance between you and myself, it'd hurt less when I'd have to leave you behind. But, then around March, when I was kissing Mindy, I found myself pretending that I was kissing you. It was you in my arms. It was you that I was holding. Mindy knew right away, but... she didn't want to believe it... Drake, please, please come with me." _Josh had begged me. Begged. Pathetically.

I can't remember, but I wouldn't be surprised if there were tears running down his face when he kissed me and confided his secret.

This dance was for Mindy... Was... being in the past tense.

Or, maybe... It was never for Mindy.

It was for me.

It has always been for me.

"_Take my hand," _

I lift my face from Josh's chest. I stare intently at Josh's content features. He has no idea of my latest realization.

"_take my whole life too."_ Elvis sings, a peaceful lull in his tone.

Josh's eyes are closed, and I'm graced to see a small smile on his lips.

"_For I can't help-"_

"Josh?" I ask quietly, scared that I'm going to be taken out of this moment forever.

"_falling in love-"_

Josh's grey eyes open with a few blinks. They leap back and forth for a minute, trying to locate where the voice that disturbed his happiness came from. Finally, he looks down towards me.

If it's possible, his small smile grows even wider.

"Yeah, Drake?" He asks innocently.

"_with you."_

"This isn't for Mindy, is it?" I state.

"_For I can't help"_

Josh's face falls along with the silence. He begins shaking his head.

'_No' _being the inevitable reply.

" _falling in love"_

"It's for me, isn't it?" I ask as if I'm in pain. I'm scared to know the answer.

Within seconds, a single tear begins rolling down Josh's face as he clenches his fists against my back and palm. He tries to keep his eyes closed. Biting his lip, he nods his head.

" _with you..." _The music falls silent as I'm left alone to face reality.

Slowly, I release my the grip of my hand, and step away from Josh's body.

Josh becomes as still as he is silent. He's trying as hard as he can from letting the tears fall. His chin is wavering and his lip is quivering. He looks like he's in pain.

A voice enters the realm of my head, once again. Only this time it's soft, loving, and doesn't belong to Kayle.

_" ... Because you're shaking. Your lips are quivering along with your chin. You look like you're in pain…. I don't like seeing you like this."_

It's Josh's voice. That was 6 years ago.

This time, the role is reversed. Josh is quivering and shaking, and I am left to struggle with the pieces. Only Josh is in emotional pain, whereas I was in physical pain all those years back.

Slowly, being unable to handle the situation, I begin walking backwards towards the entrance door.

I feel my hand grasp the cold content of the golden brass.

Josh sniffles.

I open the door. The squeak it creates is like a jarring pain that ripples throughout my body. I don't want to go. Not now. Josh needs me.

My feet aren't listening. The keep moving away from Josh. They keep moving forward, towards the outside of Josh's house. They turn me around, so I no longer can see Josh's face.

Finally, his voices calls out to me.

"... T-try to write down everything that's happened to you, Drake. Maybe you'll get more done without me there..." Josh cries softly.

"... Am I meeting you at the Diner on Saturday?" I ask emotionless. We made plans during our mini golf to have lunch at a Diner Josh likes. I'm trying not to seem rude, so I bring it up. Hopefully it'll show Josh that I don't completely hate him.

I don't turn, but I know Josh nods his head. His tears are now evident. They are racing down his face to see which droplet of salty water can hit the floor the fastest.

He thinks I'm going to reject him because of this...

Truthfully, I don't know if I will or not.

I hope not, but I am known to fuck things up.

* * *

><p>When I arrive at mine and Kayle's apartment, everything is just as we left it. This includes the golfing bag in the corner of the room, and the golf club lying on the couch. It's the golf club that Josh threw. He saved me from being bashed in the head... or having another broken rib to add to my list of bruises, scratches, broken bones, etc. that Kayle has ever given me.<p>

I walk into the master bedroom and find Kayle passed out in yet another drunken slumber. There is a bottle of whiskey on the bedside table.

Sighing, I begin walking over to my side of the bed. That is, until my catches the light of the laptop blinking on the desk in the corner.

"_... T-try to write down everything that's happened to you, Drake. Maybe you'll get more done without me there..." _Josh's voice cuts through my ears.

He's right.

Walking over to it slowly, I turn it on.

It feels like an eternity as it loads. Time always seems to go slower when your heartbeat is racing. As soon as I'm on my user account, I press the 'Microsoft Word' symbol.

I begin typing immiedatly before I am taken aback. This is my story. I have to do it justice, therefore I have to think of everything... I have to think of everything that has happened.

I turn to Kayle, who's practically naked underneath our white sheets and duvet. He has some black boxers on, but that's all. He's sprawled against the bed.

To me, it looks like a child trying to hug their mother, but their Mother is too big to hold, so the child tries to wrap their little arms around her the best they can.

Right now, the child is Kayle and the bed is the Mother.

I think he just wants to feel loved.

It's what I wanted all those years ago.

To be noticed.

To feel important and not just like a slut.

I wanted to feel loved. Truly loved.

And because of that desperation I ended up here, in this fucked up, lonely situation.

I walk quietly over to the side of the bed, facing Kayle. I stare sweetly at the man who, at one time, would try to protect me from any danger the world had to offer.

How shocked were we both when we found out that that danger was Kayle himself?

I let my head move towards Kayle. I graze against it and give him a small kiss on the lips. I never taste the whiskey, and Kayle never moves an inch. He just continues breathing.

"I'm sorry for everything, Kayle. For everything you've been through-" I whisper. "I'm sorry for what may happen in the near future... I do love you. You treated me with respect, kindness and loved me when no one else did. I'll never forget that." I say quietly.

I place my hand on his head and brush the blond bangs out of his eyes. I let my hand fall against his cheek one last time.

He looks so peaceful.

Shielded by the darkness of our room, I back away from him. Only I know that we'll never truly be with each other again.

I grab the computer and begin to type my story as quietly as possible. I almost cry during certain points, I try to stifle a laugh during others, I try to keep the fearful scream within my throat. It has betrayed me and escaped on so many other occasions, lately.

Even though I'm scared of what will come, I just have to remember my brother's help and support.

No matter what, Josh will be there to help me through the dark times.

I lay awake at 2 o'clock in the morning. The moonlight falling in through the glass balcony doorway. It's beauty lightens up the room with a blue tint.

It's calming.

... No matter how hard it is, I just have to continue.

I have continue to write my story.

* * *

><p>Chhhapteer donnne<p>

We are now at the beginning of the fic! The prologue, haha!

I've wanted to write that dance scene forever! Kinda happy I finally got to it :p But this story has turned out so differently from how I originally planned it. I've tried to keep some of my original ideas in, but it ended up just messing with my mind and (I think) making the story confusing with a hole bunch of plot holes and loose ends that...

Dammit! Be positive! I need to be positive for a change :p

Review :)


	18. Chapter 17

I hope everyone had a wonderful Christmas! (or Hannukah, Kwanzaa, the holiday that you celebrate this time of year... or a good December 25th in general if that holoiday is non existent to you...). Sorry for the late update, it's been a... different Christmas Break than what I had hoped for...

I hope everyone enjoys this Chapter :) Teehee, it isn't as long as usual! And I'm sorry if there are any (or many- which there is, I'm sure) grammatical errors, the words are beginning to blur together and I kind of just want to be done with it :p

Disclaimer: I do not own Drake and Josh

* * *

><p>I sit here in the Diner alone. In the booth, I tap my fingers against the wood table anxiously.<p>

In front of me are about a hundred pages of writing. It's most of the story of Kayle and me.

Starting off with how I felt lonely, and was desperately trying to do anything to obtain attention.

How we met.

How we danced.

How we kissed.

How we met Kayle's parents.

How Josh hated Kayle.

My first bruise.

Every Scratch, bruise, scar and broken bone is in here in order.

Everything is there... I hope Josh is proud when he sees it.

I don't even know why I wrote it, or why I brought it. Maybe knowing that everything is now out in the open is a recovery method to stop having flashbacks and move on with life?

Fuck all if I know.

"Can I get you some more coffee, sir?" A blond girl with a Texan accent asks me. I shake my head and stay quiet.

"Well, alright, just call me if you need anythin'" She smiles, before going to take an order for an elderly couple at another table.

With her gone, I turn and look out the window.

Outside is a parking lot filled to the minimum capacity of cars. On the other side of the street there is small bar and 7/11.

Hmm... I wonder how a Slurpee with alcohol would taste. Alcohol would be very nice to have right now. It would take away the nerves.

The Bob Marley song 'Three Little Birds' fills the diner, the line '_'__Cause every little thing gonna be all right' _is unconsciously mocking me every time it's sung.

I look around, taking in the features. The walls of the diner are an ugly colour of beige. Parts of the ceiling are turning a disturbing greeny brown colour. It's molding.

An older gentleman is sitting alone at a table just down the aisle, contently turning the pages of his daily newspaper. Any person could tell that this place is running into the ground. But the food is good, which is why I guess Josh, who only likes anything 1st class due to sanitary reasons, likes it here.

A bell chime fills the room as the front door swings open.

"Just take ya place, sir." The blond Texan's voice says kindly. I can hear a man reply gently. From my side of the booth, I can't see who it is, but from the voice, I can tell that it's Josh.

And I am not saying that just because he walked by

I knew it was him from the moment I heard the bell's from the door opening. Yes sir! And I certainly did not jump when his hand landed on my shoulder. No siree... Hehh...

I jumped because of nerves, I swear to god!

I glance towards Josh's face and see his eyes bounce around the diner uneasily.

"You okay, Drake?" He asks quickly.

I just nod my head. I point towards the seat on the other side of the booth, gesturing for Josh to sit down.

"O-oh, okay." Josh stutters as he takes his seat.

My hands enter my jean pockets, looking for something to do. Mine and Josh's eyes catch each other for one split second. As soon as our eyes meet, we turn away from each other, clearing our throats at the same time.

"So-" I begin.

"Well," Josh laughs.

I let out a small laugh as Josh continues stuttering.

This is all because of the other day, isn't it?

Deciding that this awkward tension has gone on too long, I grasp only a few of the pieces of paper, handing them to Josh. I need the awkwardness to be gone! Now!

"What's this?" He asks.

"It's a story... M-my story, I guess you could say." Sighing, I run a nervous hand through my hair. "If I take Kayle to court, this is some of the evidence that I want to use." I explain.

Josh begins shuffling through the papers, glancing at the words written upon them.

"So, it's all here?" Josh inquires, his eyes still focused on the sentences themselves.

I give a small 'Mhmm' in response.

"Wow, this is perfect Drake!" Josh yells excitedly. He begins going off about how this will help me in courts, and how great this is, and something about Mom and Walter and blah blah blah.

I catch a glimpse of the old man with his newspaper. He looks up at us in annoyance as Josh publically portrays his excitement. The old man's face makes a snarl, and I can see him mouth 'darn kids'.

Quickly, I slam my hand onto Josh's mouth to shut him up. It doesn't really work, it just sort of muffles his words.

"Josh, I kind of want to talk to you." I say seriously.

Letting my hand lift off of Josh's face, I sit back down in my seat comfortably.

"If this entire thing goes well, and maybe I even get a restraining order against Kayle, I, uh, I-" My voice cracks as I try to continue on with my sentence. Giving a loud sigh, I lift the palm of my hand to my head shakily. "Where am I going to go, Josh?" I ask, fear wavering my voice.

Josh flashes me a courteous smile. "You can live with me for the time being Drake."

"What if I can't find a job?" I ask.

"I know Nick from Spin City records is dying to get you back." He says nicely.

"What if-" Before I can finish my sentence, Josh cuts me off. "Stop coming up with road blocks, Drake. If you can get away from Kayle, take him to court, and even if all you get is a restraining order against him, you're away from him. You'll never have to deal with him again. What are you so scared of?" He asks me impatiently.

"I'm just scared, alright. I'm scared!" I shout back.

Josh's eyes are wide with a combination of grief and understanding.

"... I don't know how we're even going to get a lawyer to tell him that we're taking him to Court. I mean, after the trial is done, and assuming all goes well, we'll be separated. But what about during the Trial? There won't be any laws for him to come into your house and kill me."

"Are you actually scared he's going to kill you?" He asks with worry.

"No, yes... Maybe... Truthfully, I don't think he will 'murder' me, but I'm just being cautious. What if one night he drinks half a forty of Tequila and decides to take some random drugs that he'll somehow have? What if during that moment, he realizes how alone he is, and that it's my fault that he is alone? He might do something he'll regret..." My voice falls flat at the scenario that enters my head. It could happen, and that's the scariest part.

The bell chimes again as the door opens. I can hear the Texan waitress greet the new customer with friendliness.

"Drake, if you're really this scared, you shouldn't even be-"

Footsteps make their way to mine and Josh's table. I can hear them glide against the white tiled floor, stopping just behind me. It is only now that I notice the hairs on the back of my neck standing up.

Josh's mouth is open slightly in surprise. His eyes glance up at the figure, widening when they realize who it is.

Taking all of the hints that I need, I prepare myself for what's about to come.

"... So, it's fucking true, huh?" He says, voice slicing through the air. It breaks from what sounds like oncoming tears.

"You lied, and you've been with this _fucker_ the entire time, haven't you?" He shouts infuriated.

My mouth is gaping. I begin to breath as if I had been under water for 5 minutes, flailing to the surface for air. Each breath filling my lungs with a searing heat.

Pain.

"... Kayle." Noticing my anxiety, and being the peacemaker that he is, Josh attempts to talk sweetly towards the crazed man. "It isn't Drake's fault! He-"

"Shut up!" Kayle screams. "You stay out of this." He points harshly towards Josh with his index finger. Josh closes his mouth, and puts his hands calmly on his laps. He's taking Kayle's advice to keep away.

Kayle steps an inch forward and is now fully in my view. Standing above my head over the table, he stares at me, green eyes filled with hurt.

"Why did you lie?" He asks in absolute anguish. Water is beginning to fill the rim around his lower lashes.

"Why did you lie?" I snap back, somewhat amused at how easy it is to turn the tables.

Kayle cocks his head and shoots his eyes towards Josh, then to me, back to Josh, and finally resting back on me, confusion still written in his stare.

I roll my eyes at his lack of knowledge about this entire situation. "My mother has been calling me every day for the past _six years_ and you've been hiding it from me?" I say with infuriation.

His green eyes widen in fear and his head twitches toward Josh.

"You... you knew! And you told him!" He yells in hysterics.

The old man with the paper lets his paper fall to the table. He grabs his coffee and begins sipping it. He's watching us as if we were actors in a play. A slight smile plastered onto his hideous face.

Watching the old man, I shoot an answer back at Kayle, who is still staring intently at a fuming Josh.

"Maybe he did know, maybe he didn't know. Who gives a fuck? How did you find us anyway, Kayle?" I ask with obvious annoyance.

"I figured you weren't actually in San Diego for a funeral." He laughs as if he's won the gold medal game at the Olympics.

Hearing him laugh, I let out a chuckle as well. "Yes, because it's so hard to figure out that the Duchess of Sandy- Aygo's funeral wasn't real." I say. I don't even try to hide the sarcasm in my voice.

I am still watching the Old Man, but I can tell by the hitch in Kayle's breath and the rapid 'Up and Down' movement of his chest that he is furious.

"I hired spies. Ya, the Japanese Physicists? They weren't actually Japanese Physicists! I hired them, Ha HA Ha! Yesss... I hired them, to come after you, you lying little fuck." Kayle's tone lowers dangerously into a whisper that only I can hear. His eyes are wild as if he was delirious.

"So, I run away, and you hire people to search for me, only to find out that I've been in New York with Josh this whole time." I let a smile wander past my lips. Turning my head seemingly happy towards Kayle, I ask, "And how did that make you feel?"

Kayle begins shuffling his hands around frantically in his rage. Looking up at the molding roof in absolute disbelief, he begins to pace.

Back and forth. Back and Forth.

I wish I could say that the mere thoughts of "Back and Forth' does not bring forth any abrupt, unhappy memories that I wish I could suppress. Unfortunately, as fate would have it, the memories of Aprils 1st come tumbling back to me.

The smell.

The feel of the bed.

The feel of my tears tumbling from my nose to my cheek.

My screams. Begging. Pleading. For Kayle to stop.

... Kayle's hurtful words.

"Do you not love me anymore?" He asks in reality and no longer in memory. His hand is over his mouth, trying to hide his emotions.

Josh is watching the interaction with extreme intent. He's trying to be a step ahead of anything bad that may happen.

Kayle continues pacing.

Back and Forth...

Back and Forth...

_Oh god..._

Only more pain arrives in the recesses of my mind.

My breath hitches. My heartbeat quickens.

I take a gulp of air to try and calm myself before the storm.

"I did love you, Kayle. I still do. I- I just think that-"

As soon as he hears the sound of my voice, Kayle turns around to face me, and that's when he observes the scattered pieces of paper on the table.

"The fuck is this?" He says, grabbing onto one of the pieces of paper. I can't understand what he mumbles, but I know that he's reading it from the page. He's smart, deep down, he knows what's outlining the page, even if he begins denying it now.

"What the fuck is this!" He yells. His anger begins to take full force on the situation. He turns towards the table diagonal to us, grabbing an abandon, full cup of coffee.

"What the fuck-" He thrusts the cup of coffee towards my head. Seeing the movement only a moment before it happens, I turn let my head fall to the right. It misses me by an inch, and the glass shatters against the wall. Hot coffee is sliding its way down to the seat and towards my jeans.

I notice now, his aim was off. He's only a few feet away from me, yet he missed me. Kayle doesn't miss _anybody_, even when he doesn't mean it.

The shattered glass brings the attention of Texan blonde. She's watching us, hands already placed on the phone, ready to call a certain three digit number if and when necessary.

The old man at the other side of the room sips his glass of coffee. His smiles widely at me, as if to say '_go on, this is interesting.' _Taking his offer, I find my voice, and speak.

"You know what it is, Kayle. It's everything that's ever happened." I state with ease. "It's evidence."

Tears are making their way down Kayles face. I don't care if he is crying, I can't sympathize now. If I feel sympathy, I'll break, and I'll end up going back to Kayle.

That's how it has worked all the other times.

"How could you do this to me!" He yells.

"Kayle-" I try to interrupt.

"After all we've been through!"

"Kayle-"

"I can change, Drake!" He shouts so loud, the entire restaurant is now listening.

"Not this time, Kayle. You need help. Real help. And not just a therapist who you see once in a blue moon. I'm hoping that with this-" I grab one of them many pieces of paper and thrust it into Kayle's chest, "will show you what is really going on. I can't keep going like this. And neither can you. I don't want to see either of us ending up hurt." I cry.

"B-but this will hurt me, Drake. Can't you see that? This will hurt me! My career. My life! It will get out of control and I will never be able to go back to the way things were." He shrieks.

"Kayle-" I begin pleading.

Realizing all the eavesdroppers in this small Diner, Kayle grabs onto my shoulder and forces me out of my seat. He's always been a 'deal-with-problems-in-private' rather than an 'out-in-the-open-for-everyone-to-see' kind of person.

"We're going to talk about this in private. I'm not letting you get away from me, Drake. I let you leave me for only a couple days, and those were the worst days of my life. Never again, Drake. Never again." He whispers violently into my ear.

Staring up at Kayle, I can now understand why his aim was off earlier. From the smell of his breath, he's intoxicated.

Really though, when isn't he?

"Come on, let's go!" He screams.

The blond Texan is on the phone, shouting hysterically to an unknown voice on the other side of the line.

I can hear the old man laughing at the situation in glee.

Kayle attaches his hand to my arm, securing the hold with his nails digging into my skin. I can only hiss at the pain as Kayle plunges through the diner towards the exit door, me still unwillingly in his grasp.

* * *

><p>Kayle literally drags me through the parking lot, Josh only a few feet behind the entire time. He's yelling at Kayle to let me go, that the waitress has called to cops for 'Misconduct in a Public Place', or something along those lines. I can't hear properly, all I can comprehend is the pain of my knees skidding and bleeding across the pavement, trying to keep up with Kayle, as well as the blood dripping from my arm. The skin was punctured by his nails.<p>

I latch my other arm onto his hand, trying to loosen the grip.

Kayle looks down on me from his position, biting his bottom lip in fury. He is able to grab my other arm, hurdling my body onto a car, full force.

The force of the collision sends my neck tossing back. I can feel my head crack against the steel.

Giving off a pained grunt, my knees begin to collapse beneath me as black enters my vision.

Feeling my knees weaken, Kayle holds me up against the car with both his hands and body, nails still digging through skin. Ripping. Tearing.

I hear Josh run up behind Kayle. He grabs onto his shoulders in an attempt to set me free.

I try to open my eyes, but the light from the sun is too aggravating and painful to manage.

"Get away from him!" Josh cries. "Please!"

Yes, Josh. Say please. Because I really think he'll go away if you have are polite to him in this situation...

Lifting one arm from my torso, Kayle turns his body and swiftly punches Josh in the face.

I can hear Josh stumble back a few feet, letting out a painful cry. I know that he holds onto his cheek and falls to his knees. The sound of jeans making contact with gravel is small, but it waves through my ears, letting me know that he's in shock. He's never been hit that hard before.

Hearing Josh in pain, I know that this is no longer just about me. I force my eyes open.

They stare at Kayle, who is glancing every which way for an escape. He's terrified.

"Fuck." Kayle gasps out.

He grabs onto my shoulders and begins dragging me into an unknown area once again. This time, knowing Kayle's pace, I'm able to dodge his hands. In pain, I quickly duck underneath Kayle's body, inwardly cringing at the effort.

I guess being short sometimes has its advantages. If I was tall.. er, I wouldn't have been able to dive underneath and between his legs.

Kayle turns around in confusion once he realizes what I did, and I take his surprise to my advantage. When he turns his head to search for me, I give him my specialty. A right hook onto his cheek.

Kayle stumbles from the pain but immediately fires back. In his different state of mind, I easily lurch out of the way, grabbing onto his wrist.

Knowing that I have his right wrist in a lock, he tries to punch me with his left. He's right handed, so his left is weaker and not is not as quick. I block it the punch, then grab his wrist with ease.

I'm holding both of his wrists at an arm's length away. I lift up my leg, and kick him right where it hurts, letting go of him immiediatly.

The force sends Kayle flying back into the car that my head just made contact with.

If I look closely enough, I think I can see a little smear of blood where my head was.

_Shit._

Kayle's legs collapse underneath him in shock.

He tries to comprehend what just happened. He's huffing and puffing, trying to catch his breath.

Angrily, his hand begins to slide back and forth against the pavement, searching for something. He finds it, and chucks a rock at my head.

It's a direct hit, and I know that I've lost way too many brain cells for one day.

A cry is let out of my lips a I grab onto my head. This time, Kayle takes my surprise to his advantage. He's next to me in seconds, his fist in my gut.

I double over, falling onto my already bruised and scraped knees. My hands are holding onto my stomach. I hold onto it for dear life, like holding onto it might stop the entire organ from coming up my oesophagus. It's not a pretty picture, but it really feels like I'm about to throw up my entire stomach right now.

_Fuckk, that really hurts._

Knowing that if I don't move, only more pain will kindly greet me.

I stumble back onto my feet. Kayle catches my moving body with his green eyes and tries to punch my stomach once again. Knowing his attack by the look on his face, I duck under him once again.

I guess having experience with Kayle and his fighting methods really came in handy after six years.

He turns his head to face me, and I punch my directly in the nose.

Just like the drunk police man a few years back, it breaks in seconds.

"Gah!" Kayle screams, grabbing onto the bleeding fountain on his face. "Fuck!"

"Hurts, doesn't it?" I spit back at him, holding my onto my gut.

A drop of sweat slowly drops from my forehead.

Along with my gut, another part of my body is in severe agony.

My head feels likes it being split open. Darkness has almost completely taken over my sight, but I fight against it. I have to.

Kayle takes a deep breath as he wipes off the blood from his nose. He straightens his shoulders, staring at the blood intently.

"I haven't seen this much blood since I lived with my Dad..." Kayle says quietly. "I never understood why he did the things he did to me." He confesses miserably. Tears make their way to his eyes once again. He's unable to fight them back, so they just fall to the ground unnoticed.

"I loved you." He begins repeating to himself. "I loved you."

Quickly, I turn to look back at Josh. He's on his knees, watching Kayle like as if he were a circus animal. Then again, he's probably never seen anyone in this state of mind before. To him, Kayle really is just a circus animal at the moment. Something to be watched and researched.

Josh is holding onto the side of his face, both of his hands are shaking. I can see that his cheek has already begun to swell. From under his trembling fingers, it has turned a nice purple, burgundy colour.

'I'm sorry.' I mouth to him with sorrow.

I see his grey eyes begin to widen in fear. There is a sudden ache next to my temple.

"Why didn't you love me?" Kayle screams. "Why didn't you love me!"

Another ache.

"Why?"

Near the other temple

"Why!"

Now all over my head.

Everything is disoriented and in slow motion. All the colours are out on context and are blending together; blurring.

I can see Kayle's closed fist make contact with my cheek. I can see Josh's mouth open widely. He's mouthing something, although this time I can't place what he says.

I can see the gravel underneath the bruised skin of my cheek. The rather large ant walking vibrantly across my line of vision. Stopping. Staring. The intennas move around vigorously. He continues walking. I can see the grey pieces of granite, mixing in with the red liquid.

The red liquid that is coming from me.

Before I know it, I feel another searing pain against my ribs.

Everything turns black.

Numbing, I no longer feel any pain.

* * *

><p>Chhhhappterr donnne.<p>

I love writing a crazed Kayle. Actually, writing a person in the middle of a mental breakdown who isn't in the 1st person is fun! (Don't think that sentence made sense to anyone but me -_-)... And this time I think I'll just keep my criticisms of this Chapter to myself... since I'm too lazy to write them out :p I just hope the fight scene makes sense to people who aren't me.

I'll update soon! I just need to do an insane amount of editing! But incase I don't update as soon as I hope, Happy New Year everyone!

Review :)


	19. Chapter 18

I hope everyone had a great New Years, and I hope 2012 is a great year for everyone! :)

Another long Chapter, *sigh*, I'm sorry. This close to the end, I have to really start trying to tie everything together = Long Chappterr.. Ohh yayyy!

Disclaimer: I do not own Drake and Josh

* * *

><p>Everything mixes together. The ins and outs of reality and darkness blend together, becoming one.<p>

The screams of Josh calling my name. The ambulance of sirens in the distance. They seemed soothing.

A man held my hand. If I didn't know any better, I could have sworn that the man sighed, saying something along the lines of 'you should have called Officer Dwayne Clark sooner.'

Everyone always says that near death, you hear the things that you want to hear the most.

Maybe I thought that Dwayne Clark, the officer I met years ago, was an escape from this life. Maybe he's a metaphor for me being able to get out. Maybe that's why I thought I heard his name.

Then again, maybe I'm just legitimately crazy.

* * *

><p>I open my eyes. The harsh light forces me to close them almost immediately. It takes me a few more tries until I am able to pry them open fully. Unfortunately, the blur remains, no matter how many times I try to blink it away.<p>

I notice that I am laying on a firm mattress, in a room covered in white.

A beeping sound can be heard in the corner. I try to look at the source of the noise, but when I turn my head, my neck cracks and pain shoots through the muscles.

Shit, that really hurt.

Groaning, I bring my hand my chest, gripping onto the linen cloth. Once again, I try to blink away the incredibly annoying white blur.

"Good to see that you're awake Mr. Parker." A voice comes from a distance.

My body spasms left and right when I hear the voice. What the-

"Sorry to scare you there, Mr. Parker." The voice laughs at me.

... Holy crap, I'm not alone.

I try to open my jaw, but once again, a pain shoots through my body, keeping my jaw shut in place.

What the hell happened? Why am I in so much pain?

"I'm going to guess that you're in pain." The voice laughs again, although this time the tone isn't mocking, it more kind.

I let an 'mmph' sound fall through my lips. The voice's feet brush against the tile until the person comes into my view, watching me from beside my bed.

A man in his early thirties and short brown hair is smiling at me. He's holding a clipboard, writing down on it every couple of seconds.

There is a long white coat is over his blue uniform. The blue uniform and white coat is something that I remember all too well from experience.

I am never going to pretend to be a doctor again. I got so many dates, but possible jail time and a broken arm were definitely not worth it. I couldn't play guitar for a month!

My experience with being a doctor, and his blue uniform and white jacket-ish thing lead me to believe that this man is a doctor. I am the patient. I am stuck in a room covered in white, meaning that I am in a hospital.

Oh joy... These bills are going to be fun to pay.

"Mr. Parker, how do you feel?"

Annoyed that he ignored my 'mmmph' before, I just groan.

The doctor chuckles and writes something else down.

"You're probably wondering why you can't move your neck or your torso." He asks, his bleached teeth still shining out in the open.

Squinting my eyes, I try to nod, only to be stopped by his hand.

"Don't try to move your neck. The man who attacked you hit your head, or it is led to believe that he smashed your head into an inanimate object with extreme force. It resulted in you moving your neck too far back. Severe whiplash, but don't worry that'll be gone soon. Now as for everything else, well, that will all take time." The man walks out of view and over to the loud beeping sound.

Please, shut the damned thing up. I swear its getting louder.

According to the fact that the blur of my vision is getting worse, and the lights are seemingly getting brighter, I shut my eye lids tightly.

I can hear the man sigh.

"You also have two cracked ribs, a large amount of bruising around the chest and shoulder area. You have a small wound on your upper right arm, that will be fine in no time, but the worst trauma happens to be in the head area."

The voice is beginning to fade away. "Your head will probably need months to heal." He says with a sympathetic tone.

It's like the man is falling down a well and continues to talk to me. Echoeing loudly, yet disappearing.

Maybe I'm the one falling down the well.

Ya, that'd make more sense.

"You have a severe concussion, Mr. Parker. There will be certain things that you'll never be able to do again. Nothing too harsh, luckily. But, as for now, just rest Mr. Parker. You need it."

In this lonely well that I've seemingly fallen into, the voice disappears fully.

It is only now that I can still here Josh's scream.

* * *

><p>The next time I wake up in the room full of painfully bright white, I know that I'm not alone.<p>

I open my eyes to the doctor hovering above me, still writing away with his little, stupid pen. The sound of it scratching against the clipboard and pen is utterly and captivatingly aggravating.

"Can you shut that pen up, please?" I whine with a pained voice that no one can hear but me. The time I've spent without water running down my throat has caused a dryness that needs to go away, now!

"Water?" I ask with the same pained voice.

"Ahh, Mr. Parker, you're up! Nice to see you in the land of the living once again." He says with a laugh.

"Water." I repeat, none too happy.

"Alright, Mr. Parker. But only a few sips, I don't want you to have too much. I worried that swallowing will be too difficult to manage. That reminds me, maybe we should look into hydration fluids for you. Tubes inserted into your stomach and arms. Oh, it'll be such a fun time!" He says with a sarcastic tone that is difficult to miss.

The doctor grabs a glass from the side of the room and quickly fills it with ice cold water. I reach up to grab it with shaking hands.

He puts one of his steady hands on my shaking ones, laying them down to against the blanket.

"No, no, no, Mr. Parker. I'm afraid with how you're doing, you'll drop the glass."

I oblige but give the doctor a pout as he gently puts the water to me lips.

The small liquid drops fall onto my tongue and quickly glide down my throat.

It's so cold. It just seems to remove the pain of my raw throat by just sliding past the area.

Ohh... Myyy... God!

This is it.

This is heaven in a nutshell.

Nothing is better than this water, right here, right now, and-

"Heyy!" I yell with a voice crack, as the water is thrusted away from me. A large pout and eyes that belong to that of a child who's candy just got taken away appears on my face.

I begin spouting off incoherent words. The doctor grins at me with a sinister look that is scarily reminiscent to that of Megan's.

"Bu, Maa, I, Whhaa-" The words tumble out of my mouth.

"I can't let you have any more, Mr. Parker." He explains, his pen hitting that stupid, damn _clipboard_ once again.

"But why?" My voice cracks as I try reach an audible tone.

"That's enough Mr. Parker. With all the injuries you have, I wouldn't be surprised if your voicebox is damaged." He explains with a huff.

My eyes jump out of thier sockets as the last sentence reaches my ears.

"Wha-" I almost scream.

"Oh, I'm only kidding, Mr. Parker. Your voice box is fine. It has just been awhile since you've had something to drink. I can't give you more until I know you can handle it, you know, with your medication and all. Maybe in another hour I'll give you two sips." He smiles with a cheeky gleam in his eye.

Bastard.

"That being said, I'm going to increase your medication of Morphine Sulfate-" I starts to mumble, but I cut off quickly.

"Morphine Sulfate?" I mouth with interest. I'm on Morphine? Isn't that supposed to take _away_ the pain?

Why yes, Drake. It _is_ supposed to take away the pain!

Then why the hell do I still feel pain?

Oh, I don't know. Maybe the doctor is lying?

Yes, yes. The bastardous Doctor who is not allowing me something to drink is lying. Yes, yesss.

... Why the hell am I talking to myself?

Heh, maybe it's the morphine.

"An intense pain reliever Mr. Parker. Now, I know this may be a stretch, but once you're out of here, I'm going to give you tablets of Hyrdocone and Acetaminophen."

The doctor looks towards my blinking chestnut eyes.

Sighing, he says, "It's a type of Vicodin, and Acetminophen is pretty much Advil, or Tylenol. Expect this will be in a much larger dosage."

"Oh." Is my response. I never have been keen on drugs and medication. I always felt that I should be able to handle to pain myself. You aren't a true man unless you can handle pain!

"2 tablets a days, no more. I would have given you oxycodines instead, but your brother has informed me that after this, you may need a crutch and turn to your prescription medication for help."

"A crutch?" I mouth, ignorant to whatever the hell that is. I don't think I'll need crutches when I get out, since my legs are fine, and even if I did, why would Josh be worried about me with crutches and taking oxycodines? I probably wouldn't even use them at the same time!

"A crutch is something to help you get through a tough time in your life-" The Doctor begins explaining, "A death of a family member, a severe accident that can leave some disabled, an abusive relationship, past conflicts, sexual abuse, you name it. More often than not, people will fall into depression and go towards alcohol because it's legal. A crutch can be using drugs, sex, religion-"

'_That definitely isn't the type of crutch that I was thinking of'_ I think in my head as the man continues to talk about the different _types_ of crutches. I could really care less, since I'm pretty sure that I'm not going to be one of those people... And what the hell-

Josh is the one who made the doctor start talking about this?

Well, I am going to have to have a pretty little conversation with Josh in the next little while.

... If he'll even be able to see me, since he's never been very good with hospitals.

"Hell, in some cases, people become reckless and start driving 100 over the speed limit! You can lock yourself in your basement and play video games or watch movies-

The doctor laughs and turns to me, only to notice my bored expression. His gleaming face falls in an instant.

"I see, never mind then. The point is, no-oxycodine-for-you, therefore, you'll suffer more pain. Oh joy, I know! Anyways, you should be out of here in less than three weeks if your recovery is good enough. In the mean time, your family has come to see you." He states with a smile that is not normal to have... at any time of day! I was going to say 'that is not normal to have this early in the morning', but since I can't move my head, I don't know what time it is, therefore that expression will not work.

Do you see what I have to deal with here? It sucks...

"Wait, what?" I yell, instantly regretting that decision. "My f-family?" I cough out with- for once!- sound coming out of my throat.

"Yes. Your brother, your mother, your father, your sister. Family." He says with a joyless tone, while his eyes focus on his clipboard and pen.

"No! They can't!" I try to yell with my new founded voice.

"Oh, yes they can." He says, moving his pen across the paper.

"No, they can't!" I try again.

"I'm going to allow it." He sighs, turning towards the door.

He stops, and glances towards his watch on his wrist. "They'll be here any second."

"Oh, god, please no." I beg to any god that can hear me.

"Is there a good excuse for them to not come in here?" He asks me gently. I can hear his hand turning the nob on the door.

"I haven't seen them in six years?" I say incrediously. It seems like a good enough excuse to me.

"Nope, not good enough." He sighs, beginning to exit the room.

"No, wait! Please! I-I don't want them to see me like this." This, being me in a hospital bed, lacerations placed irregularly on my face, bruises and scratches up the ying yang on my body, me not being able to move my neck or even being able to grab my own water. Me, forcing sound out of my throat with a lot of pain, so that it can come out just above a hoarse whisper. Pretty much, for the first time in six years, I don't want them to see me so dependant. Me, an invalid.

I hate it.

"I'm sorry Mr. Parker, your brother explained to me your situation. Your brother has also been a close friend of mine since second year at Yale, he wants to reconnect your family. I know this may be patient abuse, but I'm hoping in the end you'll thank me, Mr. Parker. Before you know it, your family will be gone, and you'll never be able to say the things you wanted to." He says with a tinge of regret in his own voice.

"You'll never know when they'll be gone." He repeats. Understanding his situation, he's trying to tear himself away from some memory that haunts him.

"I'm sorry, Mr. Parker. I'll be back in a bit to refill the fluids." With that, he exits through the door, shutting it firmly.

The doctor whose name went unsaid leaves me in a room filled with void. Inner turmoil is soon going to flow through, probably by cruel words and rage from my Mom and Walter, and possibly Megan. The cruel words and rage that was created by me, and will only vanish once they see me again. I can't stop imagining the scenario.

There's going to be a lot of yelling, screaming and crying.

Oh boy, I'm excited.

I take a deep breath, awaiting the fight that I know is going to come.

There is no way they still love me. The love, after six years, has to be replaced with hatred by now. Hatred from my abandonment.

I just up and left after a fight with my Mom.

I really don't want to see them.

The door begins to creak open, and I can hear the feet shuffling softly into my room.

I really don't want this to happen.

I hear her breath hitch, and a gasp quickly follows from my mom's throat.

Right about now, I'm happy that I can't move without pain, or else I might listen to my subconscious, I might actually look at their crossed expression. I'm glad I can't move, I can still be ignorant for what's about to come.

My ideas of the oncoming words begin to fill my head, haunting me.

'_You deserved what you got! Kayle should have left you completely incapable of ever breathing again! It's your fault that Dad is gone! It's your fault that Mom suffered depression! It's your fault that Walter almost lost his job to take care of her. It's your fault Josh is completely alone. It's your fault! Your fault!"_

Maybe not in those exact words, but I know that is whats going to be said. I know it!

Please, just get this over with.

Now.

"My baby..." I can hear her say, voice muffled by tears.

Huh?

"My baby." She whispers, her hand grabbing anxiously onto mine.

She's out of my view, but the warmth of her lotioned palm against my dried skin has a homely feeling to it.

What?

"Mom," My voice cracks, barely above a whisper.

"Mom, is that you?" I say, trying to keep the fear out of my voice, while still remaining audible. I'm afraid that everyone is setting me up, only to watch me fall once again. This time, it won't take much for me to crack.

I can see her sob as she enters my line of vision.

The greying areas of her hair. The wrinkles around her eyes, mouth and forehead. The small beginning to the sag of her neck.

The tears are making her mascara run.

Here she is, standing over my bed, holding my hand. She's aged, her makeup is running, her face is contorted due to the amounts of tears, and yet, I can't think of a time in my life where I thought that she's ever looked more beautiful.

The day of hers and Walter's wedding, when she was smiling so wide that I swore she was going to burst, does not even compare to this.

"Mom..." I let out once again, my own voice beginning to waver.

She puts a hand to my cheek, running the fingers softly over all the areas of my face. She's either trying to memorize so she'll never forget again, or maybe she's trying remembering something she lost long ago.

"I'm sorry." She whispers with regret. "I am so sorry, Honey." More tears are shed and fall onto the linen cloths on my mattress.

Behind her tearful eyes is something that I've wanted to see for years. The little gleam of hope that I wishing would still be there, is.

Love.

"My son." She mutters with a saddened smile on her face.

It is now that I break. I cannot hold back any longer.

There may be others in the room, but I grab my Mom's arms, looking for something to hold onto. She understands what I need, it seems like mothers always do.

She lowers herself down, her arms becoming a blanket over top of me.

She holds me, in the time that I need her to most.

The tears that have been trained not to fall for the past six years are finally falling. They wet my Mom's blouse at the tip of her shoulder.

The sobs quicken, and I can't seem to stop.

"I missed you so much." I say brokenly. The grip of my hand against her shirt tightens with oncoming anxiety. "I love you, Mom."

She presses her chin against the top of my head. With her tears falling onto my hair, she replies "I love you too. I always have, and always will. Please, don't ever forget that."

Holding onto her, I say, "I never will again."

* * *

><p>It has been a two and half weeks, and the recovery hasn't been as good as everyone had hoped, but I'm recovering. Hey, I'm able to sit up, move my neck, and grab my own water. That's good enough for me.<p>

Uppp... and down... Now back upp, oh no! Wait! Let's go back down.

A laugh escapes from me as I press the control for my bed. It's one of those beds that people always have on the T.V., I never knew that they actually existed!

Let's put me back into a sitting position. Its moves upward, and upward, and upward, oh wait! Oh No! The Battery is melting from the dragons searing hot breath, and it can't move upward anymore to save the princess from the tower, oh no! This is it, this is the end of Sir Drake Parker! Whaaa, I'm falling back down, down, down to the ground!

Oh wait! Sir Drake Parker found a way to recharge the battery with air, he saved the day! Whooo! Back up! And up, and up and up-

"Heyy Bro', how are you feeling today?" Josh asks. Coming into the room. He laughs as he sees me playing with my bed. I stop and wave to him, before going back to my game that was created out of pure boredom. Up and Down with Sir Drake Parker, is it's tentative name.

I can see Josh hiding something underneath his large coat.

"So, how are you feeling?" He asks, glancing at the clock. 7 p.m., on the dot. You can always trust Josh to never be late.

"I'm feeling better, especially now that you've arrived. What did you bring me? McDicks? Arbys? A&W? What?" I ask with an excitement I can barely contain. Hospital food is the most disgusting thing in life, so I've bribed Josh into buying me fast food. As long as the Doctors and Nurses never find out, and I stop calling Mindy '_Creature'_ (Oh the humanity!), Josh buys me junk food. It's against everything he believes in, but he's doing it for me, thank god!

"It's just curly fries from the food court, but I thought some is better than nothing." He says with a smile. It twitches slightly, before falling right off of his face from the pain.

A spasm of guilt enters my stomach.

Every time I see Josh, and the bruise on his face that is barely contained by a doctors bandage, I can't help but feel awful.

Needless to say, the fries aren't so tempting to eat any longer, even as Josh hands them to me.

I grab a frie and carefully place it into my mouth, tasting it thoughtfully.

"Hey Josh-" I manage to say between bites.

'Hmm?' Josh says, looking into the brown fast food bag.

"What happened after I blacked out?" I ask a little impolitely. It's a tough subject for Josh, but I've been wondering for awhile what happened.

Josh drops the bag onto the table, falling into silence.

"Josh?" I ask with hesitance.

"I've seen people extremely high and drunk who were out of their minds-" Josh begins. "And yet, I've never seen someone that out of it." He chooses his words carefully, thinking of the outcome of each one.

"After you blacked out, he lost it." Even though Josh can't see me from his position, I nod, understanding where this is going.

"Once he saw... the blood-" Josh has to stop when he says the word blood, as if it causes him pain to say it. For Josh, it probably does cause him pain."-He started mumbling and backing up slowly. He bumped into the car that you, well, your head, umm, ya... Anyways, when he hit the car, he started screaming and fell to the ground, holding his head. He looked like he was in pain..." I have seen Kayle in that position one too many times. Knowing that Josh saw it makes my chest ache.

"-after that, the police and an ambulance came. An officer who said he recognized you helped the first aid attendants get you onto the stretcher... It was wierd, he started crying. Tears falling on the spot. I thought it would be rude of me to ask him how he knew you, not to mention I was too out of it to even ask him." Josh says, pointing to the bandage with polka dots on his face.

Josh is so kind and caring. He never deserved to see anything like that. He never deserved to _feel_ anything like that. Even if he lived at Yale for four years and never told anyone that I existed, he doesn't deserve-

... Wait.

Hold the phone.

"Josh, another question." I blurt out with unease.

Josh shifts in his standing position that he hasn't moved from since my last uneasy question. Poor guy, I almost feel sorry for him.

"Why didn't you ever tell anyone that you had a step-brother at Yale?"

Josh's shoulders fall, and if I didn't know any better, I'd say that little sound he just made was a laugh.

He finally turns to me. The sad smile completes the sorrowful look that is plastered onto his face.

"I think you already know."

I turn to look at him, the man who after _six_ years, still claims he loves me...

"... You were left on your own, so it hurt less pretending that I didn't exist?" I say it more as a statement then the question that I was intending to ask.

Josh nods. "It's exactly what you did."

The room is filled with an awkward silence caused by the truth. I don't move from my spot, just continue clutching onto the blanket with my bare, calloused hands.

Josh was always the one who could not stand awkward silences. He starts shuffling around. He grabs the paper bag, looks into it, finds nothing, and drops it back onto the table. His hands find hthe pockets in his coat as his feet begin skimming over the tiled floor.

I just stare, watching every single move.

Finally, Josh's head pounces up so quickly that it almost causes me jump.

"Hey, can we turn on the T.V?" Josh asks, already grabbing to remote.

"Sure, why not?" I say, the uneven waver evident in my voice. I grab another frie and making myself comfy in the bed.

Josh turns on the T.V, and unneeded light fills the already lit room.

A man at a desk begins talking about the day's events on the screen.

Oh joy, the news.

"In other news, a former Nasdaq Statistical Analysis and former stock marketer, Kayle Sutherland, is being tried for underground trafficking of foreign women, and drugs such as cocaine and heroin."

My eyes shoot up in an instant when the man says Kayle's name.

Josh looks at me with worry etched on his face.

"We can turn it off if you-"

"Turn it up!" I almost scream in interest, waving my hand at Josh to shut him up.

Josh does as I say, and I continue listening.

"Bob Colts is here to bring you more information on the case." The man says. The scene switches to a man standing in front of a camera outside of the Supreme Court building. His short blond hair is blowing wildly in the wind. I notice that there is a group of angry protesters yelling profanities and thrashing signs towards the glassed doorway.

"Wen Huan-Chan came to America in search of a better life for her two sons." Bob Colts says,practically yelling into the microphone so he can heard over the protesters and wind. "What she got, unfortunately, was a misfortunate reality. Unable to find a work for a Cantonese women who spoke very little English, Wen found herself in the middle of forced prostitution. Her evidence suggests that Kayle Sutherland, former Nasdaq stock marketer and statistical analysis, forced her into a life of prostitution and drug deals. After a brutal fight between Mr. Sutherland and his roommate, Drake Parker, which left Mr. Parker disabled in the Hospital and Mr. Sutherland charged with aggravated assault, Wen Huan Chan came out with her story, and hopes that others will do the same. Wen's lawyer, Miss Wendy Crenshaw-"

A picture of Mindy is shown on the screen, and I glance at Josh, who is watching me for any signs of an anxiety attack.

"Mindy?" I whisper towards Josh. He nods and begins filling me in.

"Mindy found a way to take Kayle to court without involving you entirely. Apparently, he was the head a pile of illegal underground trafficking centres. He never told you because he wanted to keep you out of it. That way, if he was ever caught, and they thought you were a partner in crime, you could plead ignorance. That's what Kayle's lawyer said to Mindy, anyways. Also, she and your Doctor felt that it would be in your best interest to leave you out of everything." He explains.

My best interest?

Do they think I would have a breakdown during the evidence period, when I would have to talk? I think about the scene for a minute…

Actually, Me. Courtroom. Reliving the past. Kayle. Abuse.

Ya, a breakdown would be inevitable.

I turn back toward the T.V, listening to what Bob Colts has to say.

"-Miss Crenshaw says that she will do anything and everything to help those affected in the underground prostitution. She says that she hopes more will come out with their stories, as to convict people like Mr. Sutherland and prevent such acts form ever happening again." The man in front of the screen sighs loudly, seemingly upset about ending his part of the job for the day.

"Back to you, Corey."

The scene once again switches to Corey Hamilton, an attractive young man who happens to be the main broadcaster for this News Station.

"Earlier today, we were lucky enough to get an interview with Mr. Sutherland's long time friend, Mr. Vince Mortella, to follow up on the latest investigation." He says with his low, husky voice.

The scene changes entirely. In a different room, Corey Hamilton can be seen shaking a somewhat wrinkled hand.

The camera panels out and shows the aged face of Vince Mortella. After all these years, the wrinkles may sag from under his eyes, but he still wears that same sickening smile that interrogates me in my sleep.

"Thank you for coming, Mr. Mortella." Corey Hamilton says kindly.

"Happy to be here," He replies casually.

"Now, I understand that this must be a shock to you, seeing as you are a close friend to Mr. Sutherland."

Vince's expression is reminiscent to that of a fish, mouth hanging open in exasperation.

"You're right, I am in shock. Kayle would never do something like this. I've known the boy since he was a kid. He's a goal oriented son of a bitch, he's always worked hard to achieve his dreams, and his dream was to one day work at Nasdaq like his Uncle. He succeeded, and he was one of the best stock marketers and, as well, statistical analysis' that we had. He would never do such a thing to take that dream away. He's been to hell and back, on more than one occasion, and he's always remained on top. So, I think that this is all a lie. There's no way that Kayle would ever commit these atrocities."

Corey nods his head, _mhmm-_ing every once in a while. Realizing that Mr. Mortella is done speaking, he continues the one sided conversation.

"So you're saying that Kayle didn't do these things and is wrongfully convicted?" Corey Hamilton asks questioningly.

"Yes, no doubt about it." Vince replies casually.

"So, what do you think actually happened. This is a pretty big thing to be wrongfully convicted for." Corey Hamilton states.

"Mr. Hamilton, there have been more than a dozen people within the last three years who have been wrongfully convicted of murder and put away for life. It isn't fair, but it happens, and I'm saying it is happening to Kayle."

"Alright. Then what do you suppose did happen?" Corey Hamilton repeats his question once again.

"I am a close friend with Kayle, so I know that he didn't do it. His roommate, however, was a problem. He would never admit it, but Kayle was extremely close to his roommate, best friends, future 'Best Mans' at each other's weddings. Kayle was worried about his roommate, Drake Parker, because Drake had unresolved issues of his past which led him to- ahem- drugs. Trafficking and possession."

A picture of myself walking through the street, looking down towards my phone appears on the screen.

Josh begins lifting himself in anger from his seat. "What the hay! What gives this guy the right?" Josh yells at the T.V.

"Josh, sit down." I say way too calmly.

"This is horrible. He's lying! Get him off the air!" Josh says once again, this time his anger is not as prominent in his voice.

"Josh, sit down. The broadcaster doesn't believe him, you can tell by his eyes. And you're interrupting." I sneer at Josh.

With a frustrated sigh, Josh slams himself down into his chair, watching the News with unblinking eyes.

"There is strong evidence that suggests that Kayle Sutherland is the one who committed the crimes, not his roommate. His roommate was beaten and is in the hospital, I don't think it's right-"Corey Hamilton responds to whatever Mr. Mortella just said, before being rudely interrupted by a wave of Mr. Mortella's hand.

"Drake Parker is a horrible human being who lies and manipulates. He is an imbecile who could barely graduate High School!"

I flinch at the truth in that statement. If it hadn't been for Kayle, I wouldn't have graduated…

"He's even asked me, a stockbroker most commonly at Nasdaq, to help him sell. 5,000$ bucks, he offered." Mr. Mortella says with angered and squinted eyes.

My jaw hits the floor.

It's official. If it wasn't official before (which I believe it was), it's official now. Mr. Mortella is a bastard. He's just trying to get back at me for not sleeping with him again, I know it.

The prick.

With that sneer plastered onto his face, Mr. Mortella looks as if he's on the brink of insanity.

I can see Josh glance up to me worriedly. "Drake-"

"Not now, Josh." I wave my hand at him, shutting him up.

My interest goes back towards the T.V.

"He did?" Corey Hamilton asks.

"He did." Vince replies, smiling.

"And Kayle, who you have said to be an intelligent human being, is friends with someone such as that. I'm sorry, disregard that. Friends _and_ Roommate with the man that you have described?" Corey Hamilton asks incredulously. I notice that Corey Hamilton is refraining from saying my name. I'm gaining respect for the guy.

Vince just nods his two faced, bastardly head. He opens his mouth, and I can only shake my head at what's being said.

"Kayle was very loyal to Drake. They were friends before Mr. Parker's problems starting acting up."

"His drug issues, you mean?" Corey Hamilton asks with an unbelieving sigh.

"Oh, there was alcohol and physical abuse as well. It seemed like he would come to work with a new bruise on his face every day! But that's beside the point. Mainly drugs, yes. What I believe happened is that Mr. Parker got caught up in the wrong drug deal. He was beaten, and Kayle was wrongfully blamed for it. The people in the drug business are masters at staging innocent civilians. Mrs. Ken Wan-Chen-"

"Wen Huan-Chan." Corey Hamilton corrects.

"-Is a foreign Cantonese women. She probably heard the name Kayle Sutherland, saw the picture of Kayle's roommate, and figured that he was actually Kayle. Or, maybe she's being bribed by Drake's drug employer to keep him from going to jail."

Corey sighs once again, thankfully unbelieving to Vince Mortella's story.

"And who knows, maybe someone just beat Drake up for him being a figgin' homo, happens all the time in New York, New York. Anyways, Drake Parker is a lazy, stupid, naïve individual who's been bumming off of Kayle for far too long. Living in a nice apartment. Food. Money. Clothes. He got what he deserved."

Josh clicks a button on the remote, and the T.V. turns off, replaced with a sheet of black.

The biting of my teeth against my lips has created a bloody mark. My fingers are attached to sheet, turning white in anger.

Josh looks at me with worry etched on his face.

"Does he know you?" He asks carefully.

A fitful sigh escapes from my lips. I fall back onto my bed, closing my eyes to try and forget what has already past.

I doubt anyone is going to come to me with Mr. Mortella's story. According to the fact that he suffered a severe concussion, and I have a clean record, I will hopefully stay out of the spotlight.

It's just another thing to get past on my list of things to get past... If that makes any sense to anyone but me.

"Does he know you?" Josh tries again. This time, not even a sigh escapes me.

I don't respond. Instead I fall into the dark brink of my subconscious, filled with the dizziness and light headed feel that is only brought by a drug induced sleep.

It is only here that it seems that nothing bad can happen.

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><p>Chhapptterr Done!<p>

Megan is severly under used in this fic. She is such a good character! But, other than that, I hope everyone enjoyed this Chapter. I hope it seems realistic, I had to do quite a bit of research. But I don't know the formula of News Station's scripts, how much pain someone needs to be in to get Morhpine Sulfate, and my lack of experience in the business industry leads to the many errors and plotholes that is Kayle's job. I am not a doctor. I am not a Newscast Broadcastor person. And, I don't know anything about business, so I'm sorry if the information is incorrect or feels... unnatural? Oh boyy...

And, Oh my god! Only one Chapter left! It's bittersweet. This is the first long chapter story that I have ever finished (yay!), but I'm sad to see it end :'( Maybe in 5 years I'll rewrite it and fix all my problems that I have with it :p But for now, I just need to get through exams, and hopefully I'll start posting a new fic? I've had the idea even before I started this fic, so I'm excited to start writing it rather then imagining:) ...Now to start studying... yayyy...

Review :)


	20. Epilogue

Heyy everyone! This is the last chapter to this story. I wish I had more time to fix it up, make it less confusing/choppy, but if I do so, I'm afraid I'll never post it :p Before we start, I just want to thank everyone who has read this story. Seriously, watching the hits increase day by day was rather exciting, especially since it was in the M section! Annnd, of course, thank you to everyone who has reviewed, especially CoogrrrShae, SorrowNoMore, and Bellsdestiny, all of you are amazing! I'm still in shock that people actually like this story, as I currently am unable to read any of the older chapters (I cringe at the thought of them :p)

This will probably be the longest Chapter too, so for that I am sooo sorry! Haha, but, might as well end with a bang, huh?

Disclaimer: I do not own Drake and Josh

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><p><em>One year later...<em>

Kayle's POV

Being lead down an artificially lightened hallway, I feel myself sway at the thoughts.

'_You have a visitor.'_ Said a policeman who barged into my room, interrupting my glorious time of boredom.

We enter through a metal door way and enter an eerie room, which by sense, feels colder and more cruel than the metal door itself. The door slams shut behind me, forcing me to flinch. The officers shove me into a small chair in a cubicle, facing a transparent piece of damn glass.

It is just glass right? Cause' if someone of the right body weight and size became angry enough, they could easily shove their hand through the glass, shattering it, couldn't they? If it were me, I would use some of those shattered pieces to imprint some lovely little reddened marks on the policemen who unwillingly brought me here.

I'm just saying, there is enough people roid' raging here, having glass to talk to someone could cause a disturbance.

And possibly death. Actually, scratch that. It would most probably cause death.

A man sits in the chair opposite of me, behind the glass wall. I haven't seen the bloody bastard since last summer. Now, my grudge for his seeming abandonment is left behind, as far as he can tell. Then again, I've always been pretty good at keeping things to myself, as long as I'm not drinking.

"How are ya, mate?" I say with a mocking, Irish accent.

"Mate is Australian, but good try." The man on the 'free' side of the glass replies.

He stares at me, blue eyes unwilling to share the questions that dance around his mind.

He's aged since the last time I saw him. Wrinkles are forming at the edges of his eyes, creating crow's feet. They are accentuated with the dark circles, from little to no sleep for days on end, I'd imagine.

Hair. Shorter. Slightly more dark than the last time. Height still the same. Worn out jacket. Bought when he was nineteen. Still fits. Therefore, he has not gained muscle mass, nor has he lost weight.

The snide smirk still resides on his face. The smirk that only belongs to that of someone who has a double major in English... from a community college.

"Found yourself a girlfriend?" I ask, seemingly without a care to my current situation. "Might help take away those frown lines." I flash my whitened set of bleached teeth to him, only to prove that I have not lost my charm.

"Fiancée, actually. And because of that, I have no time for a girlfriend." He states. There is no hint of cheer in his voice, nor any fret of putting his 'bachelor days' behind him. He's always been the type of guy to be 'whipped' in a relationship. Maybe leaving his bachelor days is for the best, since he never could really get a grasp the concept, even being the amazing bartender that he was.

"You and Katie finally made a date, eh?" I yell with an exasperated cheer. He raises his eyebrows suspiciously, watching me for any other possible signs that I could be on drugs. He should realize that I am not high on drugs, I am high on life! I'm seeing my buddy that I haven't seen in a year, and I haven't slept a wink in days! See, high on life, not drugs! Or maybe I'm just overly enthusiastic due to the lack of sleep. It can happen, y'know...

"Under the circumstances, yes..." He says, lowering his eyebrows.

"Well, have to say I'm a bit jealous. I have all the time in the world _for_ a girlfriend, and I can't get me a single shag." I laugh loudly at my reference to the world 'shag'. It's very English, like English from England. I've always envied the 'English from England' way of speaking. The accent and words. No matter what they say, it can sound like the smartest thing in the world.

"I thought you were a homosexual?" See! It isn't English from England, since it's English from Ireland, but it still has the same effect... Oh holy shi- I need to sleep.

"I am." I say, trying lose my over tired exuberance.

Johnny sighs, looking towards his feet. A smile reaches his eyes, before it fades and he starts to twiddle his thumbs.

"I know."

"So , what's the point making me say it out loud?" I ask rather annoyed. I'm lucky that I am the only one in here, other than the damn officers. "Here, people are beaten for that." I explain.

"It's the reason I came." He states emotionless. His eyes have not budged. They stare full force into mine with a dull expression.

"... You're here because I'm a homosexual? ... Yes, yes that makes a shitload of sense! Oh! Ohhh, my gosh, Johnny," I begin, putting my hand innocently on my chest, giving him a false sense of sympathy, "Are you a gay too? Ohh my gawdd, we can totally go shopping together for designer jeans now!" I say with an absurdly high voice, so he is able to grasp my sarcasm.

"Fuck off, y'know I have girl." He laughs, showing me his first portrayal of emotion. Score one for Kayle.

I ease my back against in the chair, rather enjoying company that doesn't want me to fuck them in the ass, or beat the shit out of me. Jail is such a great place to be, can't you tell?

Johnny's laughs subsides and he relapses into his old habit; no emotion. "Six years ago, he dumped you because he knew how things would turn out. He left you, because he knew that if he didn't, everything that happened to Drake would happen to _him." _He describes.

This subject is one I like to avoid, as this relationship started while I still lived with my Father, ended with a broken heart, and was the reason I ended up with Drake. Therefore, it _was_ a subject that I never wanted to discuss, though Johnny never seemed to catch onto that little detail._"_What the fuck, Johnny?" I yell in distress, "Why the double dose of hell are bringing up Scott?"

"Because that's what he said to you wasn't it?" Johnny replies, a tiny hint of anger in his voice.

"Yes, and you know that! I fuckin' talked about that with you for two weeks!" I scream back, unable to contain the anger. I would break something if I could, but that would be force me to take Anger Management again. It's like remedial English. You do it once, and dear god help you if you ever have to go back. Instead of breaking something, I release my anger through a slam against the table with my fists, forcing the glass to shake. Johnny watches me with a seemingly bored gaze.

Suddenly, a small smirk places itself on Johnny's face as he sits back in his chair. It's as if he's accomplished something.

"What?" I ask him rather rudely.

He laughs and just continues to stare with a blank glaze over his eyes. "I'm afraid, Kayle, that ole' Scotty was right. Everything he broke up with you for, happened."

Blood rushes to my face turning it the same colour as the sky just before dusk, filled with violent reds, pinks and oranges. It's seemingly beautiful at first, before it is replaced with a cold and brittle night, complete with gloom and obscurity. This is exactly what happens to me. Rage and hatred shown in colour, right before I calm down enough to let the colours fade, turning bleak and emotionless with a long exhale of breath.

Johnny watches the transition with an amused expression. He lets out a laugh, attempting to create rage once again. Luckily for him, it works.

I slam my fist against the dirtied table that holds the glass as I did only moments before. "That's not true!" I scream at the top of my lungs. "Scott knew shit all." My voice falls from rage to deadly calm, but Johnny holds his own without any fear.

"Y'know? Drake was a nice lad. Too bad that he had to meet you." He says with a sparkle in his eye.

"Isn't lad a Scottish term?" I ask, anger still ever so present within me.

"Who gives a damn? He was an idiot for staying with you. Then again, where could he go? You cut off almost all limits with his family. I heard you lying to his mother, what the hell was that about?"

"Dunno," I say truthfully.

He watches me with a side glance, and since Drake was brought up, he seems to want to continue in that direction of conversation. "Why the hell didn't Drake's parents ever come to New York, anyways? They knew that he was there, and you're office isn't too hard to find." He asks bluntly.

At this, I offer a sad smile to my old friend behind the glass. Oh so close, and yet so far. "They did. Once every year. But he was never 'around' when they were, or so I told them on the phone. Eventually they realized- or felt- that it had to be Drake to go to them first. They didn't want to force him, in fear of losing him again. So, I kept lying, and eventually Audrey and Walter stopped their yearly visits to New York."

Johnny continues his stare with glazed over eyes. He shakes his head. Silently, I am able to understand his thoughts. _'Why the hell would he do that' _He's thinking.

"I got a kick out of it." I smile regretfully. Johnny's ear perk up at what I say. With the look to his face, I guess that I read his thoughts correctly. My answer to his unasked question seems to disturb him, and I can tell that he doesn't believe it for a second.

"It's going to take him years of psychiatric help to get him past the pain and hell you put him through."

I say nothing in response. All I do is nod my head, my blond-turning-brown bangs falling before my eyes.

"He may never be able to be in a relationship again. He flinches every time someone goes near him. Proud of yourself, Kayle?" He asks with resentment.

I shake my head. He knows that I'm not. I'm not proud of any of it. He's just trying to guilt me, to confess that I acknowledge my wrong doings. He knows that I'm guilty, but I sure as hell ain't gunna confess it to some prick like him.

He isn't the one behind bars, so why should I tell him? Why should I come clean?

Johnny looks towards me, a bit of anxiety in his eyes. "He doesn't seem right for Drake." He states quickly.

I let my mind wander around all the different areas in my mind, trying to understand what the hell he's talking about. It was such a quick change of topic, I mean how am I able to grasp-

"Josh," Johnny says, understanding my confusion. I let my mind wander around the thought of' _Josh', _and as much as I want to, I'm unable to find something to agree to Johnny's confession.. "How?" I finally ask.

"He's cowardly. I mean, he didn't even try to get Drake away from you while you were... in dispose. I even tried! You're my best friend, and I love ya, but you can be frightening." He admits to me.

I nod my head, accepting his answer. Ohh, how little Johnny knows. "Josh did try." I confess.

"What?" I can only laugh at his reaction, his blue eyes bulging out of his head from the shock. "When him and Drake met up again after, what was it, five years? Josh realized that things had progressively become worse, so he came to my office one afternoon to have a '_chat'_ with me."

Johnny sits on the edge of his seat, taking in my small, mostly uninteresting story. He lets a small, unbelieving smile fall onto his face. "Uh-huh, and how many days had it been since they first met up again?" He asks me with that same suspicious look in his eye.

"Not even four days." Is my honest answer to his question. He raises his eyebrows in astonishment. "Wow..."

"Yah, he also threatened me." I laugh loudly at the memory. "He told me that he was going to take Drake away from me, to get him out of the situation since he wouldn't leave himself."

Johnny laughs along with me. The idea of _Josh_, a Yale graduate with curly hair, threatening anyone with violence is enough to get any person to giggle. "So, why did it take him a year to do so?" He questions immediately after the laughter fades.

"I told him that if he ever tried, he would be unsuccessful. I had friends in the police force, law firms, and Vince Mortella, who can find anyone. We'd find Drake, and when we did, I'd kill him. And I'd make it look like a suicide." I say the sentence slowly, so it is able to eerily make its way into Johnny's mind.

"You're fucking psycho." He whispers, his face contorted from pure shock.

I laugh. "It's why I'm in here." I smile towards the man on the other side of the invisible wall. "And to prove my point, I gave Drake a small, little scar across his wrist. Josh saw, understood, and stayed away."

Johnny looks at me, the words I uttered have terrorized him. '_Where's the old Kayle?_' he's probably wondering.

Johnny shakes his head, and looks towards me with a sad expression. "Even before then, why didn't Josh try to help Drake?

I clasp my hands together, resembling an executive giving a speech on proper work ethic to my employees. "He did." I explain, " He found my number for work, and he phoned my so-many-times, that eventually I had to change the number. He _begged_ to see Drake. He _begged_ for his family to be able to see Drake. He threatened, because he knew that I was the causing the forced separation between family members. But, he also knew that there is only so much a Yale student can do against a Wall Street man like myself." I say with a fake gleam in my eye. I hate everything I've ever done. It's repulsive. But to stay in here, in custody, I must remain in this psychotic state. Do I really want to stay here, though?

Johnny turns his eyes away from, unable to watch the man he knew so well turn into a vile being. "Still, why did it take him a year to get Drake out?" He asks brokenly.

Laughing, I begin. "Y'know, I swear he stalked us. Searching for the perfect moment to take Drake right from under me. And he found it too, the bastard! When I was too unstable to understand what was happening, he jumps in and comes to the rescue. Good ole' Josh, coming to save the day! Heh, I didn't even know where he lived. I didn't know his last name. I didn't know if he was still at Yale trying to get into medical school, cause' you know how plans change. I hadn't a clue of anything _about_ Josh, and I wasn't able to get off the couch for almost five days, so I contacted the personal investigators, but you already know about that..." I say with an ease and calm that is disgusting, and quite the opposite to how Johnny looks right now.

He shakes his head miserably at me, yet he keeps his thoughts to himself. "How did Josh get into the apartment? I can't imagine him just walking through the front door, not with the security you had there." He says, keeping the conversation of a role.

"I have no idea. I have guesses, but no actual answers. By the time I sobered up, I noticed that the patio door in our bedroom was open, and I remember him coming through our room, so he must have come through the patio?"

"Wha- how the hell did the cheeky bastard even get onto the balcony?" He almost squeaks in surprise.

"No Idea." I reply. "No one lived in the apartments underneath us for two years, so he must have broken into them or something. Maybe he said that he was looking to buy? I don't know."

Johnny finally exhales his held in breath. "He must really love Drake then."

I smile towards him. "That's what I am trying to tell you... But I think I fucked up Drake too much to ever feel the same way. Pity. An un-consensual love story. They make the world go round." I chuckle. I can see the guard to my left sneer his lip to what I just said. Someone isn't happy. Sighing, I turn my attention back to Johnny. "... I really do belong here, don't I?" I ask softly, finally beginning to realize the truth.

Johnny stares at me. "You are a good person, can _be_ a good person. Just stay away from alcohol, man." He says to me earnestly.

Snorting, I reply, "Ya, I'm in detox mode right now. Making me go cold turkey. Gotta love jail!" I exclaim with open arms.

Johnny continues his empty stare towards me. "You never have told me the reason why you drink like you do."

From experience in this situation, many of which take me back to my early days in elementary school when my teachers asked me where that bruise came from, I automatically tense. The muscles refuse to loosen on my shoulders.

Observing the fear in my green eyes, Johnny sighs. "I already know, Kayle. It's alright. Just say it, let it out. Just speak, and you're already in the first stages of recovery."

I guessed that he knew a long time ago. All those pitying looks he gave me, he had to have known. Taking a deep breath of air, I take his advice. I attempt to speak what has so long been repressed. Drake found out, only due to alcohol consumption on both mine and my father's parts. Poor kid.. Speak, damn it, speak!

"W-when I have alcohol, I no longer-" I close my eyes, tears pricking behind them. I can still feel it. No matter what, I can still _feel _it.

Stop being such a wuss, say it god damn it! "When I have alcohol, I no longer feel _him_." I say quickly, as if doing so slowly would surely be the signature to my death certificate. I refuse to open my eyes, yet I continue talking. "I don't feel him anymore. I no longer feel any pain, and I like it." I say, my honesty inwardly breaking me in half. I try to repress these thoughts, bringing them up is the opposite direction to healing, isn't it? Not everyone who's dealt with physical or sexual abuse ends up like this. A lot go on suffering in silence. Others, the few who can speak, go on to tell their stories, and help others out to tell theirs. They help sufferers of silence no longer suffer... Why didn't I? I was bright enough, and I knew the problems with alcohol. Why didn't I help others? Why didn't I just continue to keep silent?

"Why did I end up in here, a criminal behind bars? ... Why did I turn out to be horrible person, Johnny? When did everything begin to turn?" I ask bitterly, although the grief and remorse shade the bitter tone of my voice.

"I don't know Kayle. I don't know." Johnny says, answering my rhetorical questions.

I look up to him, tears brimming the edges of my darkened eyelashes. "Have you seen her?"

Johnny lets out a huff, his glazed over eyes skim over me from behind the glass.

"I guess you found out that Drake isn't the only reason I came here today."

I nod my head, since I know that Johnny usually needs more than three reasons to get up off his ass to do something. It's something that his, now fiancée, never quite understood and always tried to change. Obviously, the poor girl has had little success.

"Carol," I say just above a whisper, like saying the name out loud will make her appear from memory.

I put my hand to the glass, eyes opening wide with regret. I wish I could see her again. I wonder if she saw me on T.V? It would be hard not to, since the Trial and conviction seemed to be on all headlines. Carol, did you feel guilt, sadness, regret when you saw the news? Or did you just think 'Like Father like Son?' Surely you wouldn't have thought that, would you?

With frustration, I shake the thoughts from my head. "How is she? Has she gained weight?" I ask, almost openly pleading for good news.

Johnny's emotions become scarily readable, for I'm able to grasp everything he's feeling.

Pity. Despair. Regret. Mourning. And sympathy.

Oh no.

Oh no.

Oh god, please no...

"I- I'm sorry, Kayle."

No, don't say 'I'm sorry'. 'I'm sorry' comes with horrible annotations.

"She's gone."

My heart stops. I let the numbing take over my body and actions, as I just slide back into my seat. "What?" I ask, practically begging some unknown god for this not to be true.

"She... She died, Kayle. Two years ago..." He turns his eyes away from mine, no longer able to handle the pain that seems to radiate off of me.

My hand is over my mouth to stop the silent screams.

The tears, I know, will come. Maybe not now, but definitely later when I get back to my cell. Right now, nothing happens except for trying to deny the truth.

I begin shaking my head in disbelief. "It isn't true." I say in a calm manner. "It isn't true." The words seem to repeat themselves over and over in my head.

"Kayle-" Johnny tries.

"It isn't true."

"She had breast cancer." He explains harshly.

"It isn't true." I deny with a yell.

"There was a lot of surgeries but your Father didn't have to money to pay for them!" Johnny's hands meet glass with a vibrating slam.

"It isn't true." I whisper in denial.

"So rather than be in debt-" Johnny continues to yell, his hands banging against the invisible separation again and again, trying to get it through my skull.

"He took a gun and placed it to her head!" He shouts.

"It isn't true." I screech. I try to get away from the sounds of Johnny's words by placing my calloused hands over my ears.

"He played doctor, kept her alive until she could barely breath!" Johnny yells. Torture. That's exactly what he would do, wait until the last moment forcing her to feel every burn, every tiny bit of pain that she wouldn't feel with drugs or chemotherapy.

"And when she was on her dying breath, he shot her..." There are a couple hot tears streaming down Johnny's face as his voice lowers.

"He shot her. The neighbours heard the shot and called the police." He continues cries. My hands leave my ears, and my eyes become wide, picturing the scene.

My father had probably been on probation by that point. He had had quite a few disagreements with the police that led him into more trouble, more often than not. He probably tried to make a run for it when he heard the sirens.

Johnny reads my thoughts from the other side of the glass. I guess even a physical barrier can't separate to friends when they need each other most.

His head begins to shake.

"He knew he wouldn't get away... I'm sorry, Kayle."

And for the third time today, my heart stops. This time, no fear rises from it. Instead, I find relief flowing through my body as I watch Johnny break down.

"I'm sorry, Kayle... He- Bryan- Your Dad. He.. He shot himself, alongside Carol."

"Where are they?" I ask. My own tears remain on the rims of my reddened eyes.

"C-Carol was cremated and her ashes were scattered in the river." Johnny sniffles.

"And the bastard?" There is no crack, waver, or quiver in my voice. It lacks anything similar to an emotion.

"There was a funeral mass. He has a gravestone in the local cemetery." Johnny confides to me.

Both of them are dead. Carol is dead.

The bastard is dead.

Drake is alive.

Johnny is living his life.

And Carol, my not-so-biological Mother is dead. Cancer. Really?

And Drake is alive.

But Carol is dead. Could it be seen as a good thing that she got cancer? It was a way out of a bad situation that would have been, otherwise, left alone. But she suffered because of it. So it can't be good.

But it took her away from _him,_ finally.

Was it a good thing that she got cancer? Or was it bad?

I can't tell.

And I wish I knew the answer.

"I'm sorry, Kayle." Johnny says, standing from his seat.

He stands from his seat. He backs away, staring full force at me. Johnny quickly grasps the handle to the exit door, opening it wide. A woman stands behind it, holding a pink baby carrier, complete with a baby wrapped in pink polyester. A pink hat on top of her head hides the small blond curls. The baby coos in her sleep.

"So that's little Elizabeth, uh? Thought she'd home. Y'know, it could be internally damaging having her in this kind of environment so young." I laugh, voice still quivering from the latest news.

Johnny offers to take the baby carrier from his fiancée, and re-enters the room, shutting the door softly as to not wake her up. He walks until he is 5 ft. away from the glass, displaying his daughter for my eyes only. "Ya, thought you might want to meet the child that will know you as Uncle Kayle, the godfather." He quips. The tears still continue to fall.

"I'm sorry I couldn't be at the baptising." I say with a smile. I can't believe that with all the yelling, the little girl didn't wake up. Even behind a large metal door, she's a baby. I thought baies heard everything and cried at everything?

It's a miracle.

Finally, Johnny looks down at his daughter. Sadly he says quickly to lessen the pain of the goodbye, "...I'll be seeing you soon, Kayle. 10 years... soon" He looks towards me, his eyes begging for this to be a dream. That one day we'll all wake up seven years earlier, stopping this all of this from happening.

It's a foolish thought. But, fools believe and dreamers dreams. Those are the two last things keeping me going now...

What do I have left?

I smile at Johnny and his little girl.

"I will see you soon." I say, my handing finding its way back to the glass. Johnny looks at me pitifully, before sighing. More tears fall, and he opens the door. His back faces me as he walks out of the room, never once turning back. Unlike her father, the child is smiling happily in her sleep.

She's probably not even six months old. She has no clue how fucked up this world can be.

Lucky little shit.

A smile begins to spread on my face, even as the tears still fall for Carol.

Drake. My father and step mother. His new born baby girl, my god child.

See what I mean? Johnny needs at least three reasons to get off his ass and do the things that need to be done.

And in a time of complete numbing, that's the only thought I have to make me laugh.

It works.

I laugh.

Hell, I laugh all the way through the cold metal door, down the artificially lightened hallway, and back into my bitter, ashen-coloured cell.

I laugh.

And laugh.

And laugh.

And laugh.

That is, until, I know I can no longer hide. The dark sky falls through my caged window, and the laughter falls silent.

It is taken over by the wretched noise of hideous tears.

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><p>Drake's POV<p>

_One week later..._

Everything has gone by so quickly.

It has been a year since I've seen Kayle. The last time I saw him was through a T.V, and it was only a picture of him with a reporting of how he was tried and convicted.

Kayle is currently serving 10 years for trafficking and possession of drugs, as well as human trafficking. According to Mindy, he got off lucky.

None of his trial had anything to do with me, so with wishful thinking, I won't be the one he'll go after when he gets out.

Then again, maybe he'll come out of Jail relatively normal, just like he was when we first met.

Heh, Nick Mateo bribed me with money to come back and work for him. Begged with money in his hand is more like it. I am no longer the star, but I'm alright with not being in the spotlight for now. All I am doing is helping write and create songs for their new talent. It's actually pretty fun, which is different from what I thought it would be.

I am living alone in a single bedroom apartment. It's expensive, but what else can I really hope for when I live by myself in New York?

It's spacious enough, and if I didn't keep killing the damn plants that Josh and Megan keep giving me for Christmas' and Birthdays, there would be plants hogging up that space.

Lucky me, I guess?

Maybe it would be kind of self explanatory to say that I still have nightmares. It has been getting better, but I always have this funny feeling that someone is about to jump me and break another rib, forcing me into further debt in our medical system.

Common law has saved my butt on that one, thankfully. Kayle didn't tell me, but he stated on many forms that we were in a relationship, and since we were living together for more than five years, we were considered a common law couple, meaning I got half of the money that Kayle made. I didn't think that common law included gay marriages, it wasn't until later that Mindy proved me right. Apparently in all of Kayle's descriptions of his 6 year relationship, I was considered a female... Great boost to my ego, huh?

His lawyer wanted to bring me to court for it, but Kayle let it slide since he did it on purpose.

Kayle... He sent me letters everyday for a year until just recently, recently being last Tuesday, they stopped.

Josh could be hiding them, he says that they're only hurting me further and not allowing me to get past the relationship. I don't know, he makes it sound so much worse than what it was, but maybe I'm just under-exaggerating it? ... Is under-exaggerating even a word? I dunno. What was I talking about? Oh yah, Kayle, letters, letters, last Tuesday, oh yah!

The letters never write of love, or hate, or how he may come after me, but instead, they talk of apologies.

He's reached the third year of our relationship now. He has remembered every attack, every bruise and every cut he has ever placed on my body. He has apologized for every one of them. But, they stopped. And I can't even begin to fathom why.

...

Mindy has moved on. She's engaged to a future PhD in paediatrics. Only two more years for him, and most of those two years just involve working. I've never met the guy, but Josh says he likes him. He's a good enough guy, and will always do whatever Mindy tells him, which is the kind of guy she needs... I think anyways.

Josh is still the dean at NYU, and he loves every moment of it. He also tutors some of the students, for cheap.

He wants to see his students succeed, so he tries to help them as much as possible. Josh is really the perfect kind of guy for that position. I can see why the dean at Yale wanted to train him for the part.

I mean, he's still Josh. Childish in many ways. He still loves magic, and he forces me to go to see a live magician any time he can. Hell, I even spotted him buying stickers for his microscope the other day.

"_They're the puffed up ones! I love the puffed up ones! Look it! Look it! It's a kitty, hehe!" _He then bounced with an exuberance to the cash register.

Me and Josh aren't together, but that doesn't say we never will be.

According to my psychologist, she says that at this state in time, a relationship will most likely only end up hurting me and my progress, even if it is with Josh.

We're waiting until I am considered 'stable' enough, so we can proceed to a possible legitimate relationship.

Josh says that he'll wait, but if in five years I am still not better, I don't think Josh will keep his word.

It wouldn't be fair to him anyways. As much as I would like to be with him, I want Josh to be happy. If being with me, or waiting for me, would make Josh unhappy, I don't want it to ever happen.

He's been there for me the entire time, and he has never once told me the dreaded words '_I told you so'._

Until I can go into a restaurant without having an anxiety attack when I get served by a blond busboy, or until am able to go through an entire week without waking up in a cold sweat and screaming, or when I can get through three full days without being afraid to go to sleep, will I be considered 'normal.'

Abusive relationships do shitty things to people. I am not in an abusive survivor support group thing, but neither do I want to be. I could help people, go into school and talk about how 'my best friend who was a girl lived in an abusive relationship for six years' and the effects it had on 'her', hoping to get kids to talk about their unresolved issues.

I could talk about Marianna, if I think about it. The late sister of New York Policeman Dwayne Clark, who has visited me a few times, bringing me flowers that eventually end up in the trash bin.

He's getting older, but apparently his 'uncle' has finally passed on. The world still turns, and more monsters like him and Kayle's dad are being born every day.

It has a negative effect on everyone, not just one person. It's weird how the world works. I mean, what Kayle's dad did to him ended up effecting me too, even though I was thousands of miles away.

And because of that effect, I am now reacquainted with my family, Nick Mateo, and Josh. I am living my own life while trying to remain calm, happy and content. I still suffer from the haunting memories, and I doubt that there will ever be a day when I can say that I am in a relationship with Josh.

It's bittersweet, isn't it?

Then again, who knows what will happen. Me and Josh could get together. Me and Josh could get together with other people. Maybe we'll even meet nice, young, hot girls with real D cups. Ya, that's the dream, haha.

What I'm trying to say is, who knows what the future holds. Whether it's good or bad, I guess I'm just going to have to keep waking up, day to day, and continue to live.

My thoughts lead me to remember the incident that killed my father, all the abuse from Kayle, jumping out of a helicopter when I was 17.

I mean, I'm lucky enough to be alive. Might as well live the rest of my life to the fullest.

Facing challenges, and getting past them are the key to success. They are the key to living a good life.

Everyone always says that the best way to grow is through adversity.

Well, damn.

I proved them right.

* * *

><p>Kayle's POV<p>

It has been a year, six days, and thirteen hours since I've been placed in here. Not all the money in the world could change the smells of the showers, the cries of the screaming men, or the sociopaths that continually harass the lesser of the muscled men. The way they taunt you with words, it's a nightmare. You try to defend yourself by force against the whispers, but that only leads to solitary for two weeks.

After everything happened, I gave up all the money I had.

I gave it to Drake.

He deserves it after the drunken haphazard hell that I forced him to live in everyday for six years.

I don't think I'll ever understand why he stayed.

I wrote him letters. Every day.

I don't want to ever be in a relationship with him again. I'm too far gone to ever be considered normal, so why hurt him further?

I really did love him. I just wish that I hadn't given in to my wants that soon turned into needs.

Carol always said that you can want something, but as soon as you _need_ it, ge_t _away.

I loved her, she was my true mother. Maybe not biologically, but internally, she will always be my mother.

... Last week I attempted suicide.

I couldn't take it anymore.

All the horrible things that I've done. And for what?

Money? Alcohol?

Like father, like fuckin' son.

I took a long piece of rope, and tied it to my neck. I tried to suffocate myself.

This prison is well known for its suicides, so hanging myself would never be attainable. I wish I could somehow get drugs, maybe than I could have overdosed. Drugs are easy to obtain, I just don't have the money or will to get them.

With the rope swung around my neck tightly, the authorities found me in the morning unconscious, and on the brink of death. I was so close, mere minutes away.

They found me, saved me, and threw me in solitary confinement for two weeks as punishment.

Welcome to prison.

And in these darkest of times, I can only see my father's face, laughing at me.

I can still feel the pain of his punches against my bones. I can still hear the cracks.

I can still hear the screams of Carol, late at night, locked in her room.

And in all the terror and atrocities of my life, the only one who ever tried to help me was Drake.

And how did I repay him? Well, everyone knows that story.

I just wish I could rewrite it, make it so I never met him in the park that night.

If I had broken up with my boyfriend even an hour later, there may have been a chance to have never met Drake.

That could have saved him a lifetime of a hell that I know all too well.

If I could rewrite history, I would.

There's one thing that I will never change though: my want for Drake to be happy.

And for him to be happy, I want him to forget about my miserable existence. Locked up, alone in this cell, where the terrors of my past still come back and haunt me.

When I get out of here, I'm going to visit my father's grave. When I leave, there will only be bits and pieces left of his gravestone.

The fucking bastard doesn't even deserve a gravestone to 'honour' his memory. After the destruction of what was never meant to be, I'm going to go back to New York. What will I do for a living? Who the hell knows.

I know one thing is for sure, I am going to check up on Drake.

I love him, I really do.

His family lost its love for awhile. He was lonely, which is why he came to me. He was hoping someone would once again love him and pay attention to him.

I tried, and I failed. But I know where I went wrong. I am a goal oriented person, wanting to achieve the best possible. I will work and work until the thing I want is just right. I know how to improve my relationship with Drake. I know what to do and what not to do now.

I won't be a stalker necessarily, but I am going to keep an eye on him. Make sure he's eating, living in a good apartment. Make sure he's being treated right by his friends, family, possible love interest.

Forever and always, I will be there for him, and he'll never even have to see me.

Helping him without being seen, that's good enough for me.

Once I'm out of here, and destroy what is left of my father, I'll watch him. Day and Night.

He won't know it.

It sounds freaky, but I have to. To recover what I stole. That is what I have to do.

I may not have been his knight in shining armour, but once I'm out of here, I'll be kind of like a guardian angel.

Helping with soft and kind words, without him ever even knowing that I'm around.

His guardian angel.

Yeah.

I like the sound of that.

* * *

><p>Fannn ficc done!<p>

0.o Holy Shizzlenit, it's over! I think that Kayle's first part was wayyyy to long! But, ya, I wanted all that to be said. And since everything came from Drake's perspective in this fic, I like having readers find out later that characters lied to him without him knowing it :p And since this is a Drake fic, it's wierd that he was also severely underused in the last part as well, haha.

Also, this fic turned out SO much differently than I had orignally planned. Like, I was going to make Drake work for Kayle's underground prostitution thingy. And from chapter 3 (?) I mentioned Bob and Jehovah the Crossdresser as Drake's previous Boy kissing/sex experiences. I hated mentioning it, as it inwardly killed me, but I originally had them there for a reason. Jehovah was actually going to be working for Kayle too as a prostitute (or drug dealer), and he was the reason why Drake realized that he needed to get out and away from Kayle. Bob was going to come back and help get Drake out, making Drake realize that people can change for the better, forcing him to become acquainted with Josh all on his own! Megan was still severly under-used, though... Ya, it was completely different!

And one last A/N before I leave to go AWOL for exams (already happening), I left this off as if there will be a sequel (I don't know about anyone else, thats just how I personally feel), but I highly HIGHLY doubt there will be one (Yay!) :p I just liked the idea of a crazy Kayle and the Gaurdian Angel thing. I am starting another story though, so I'm excited to start posting that :) So, I guess until next time!

Review :)


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